Fake Dating Blake
by bellarke
Summary: Clarke settled that, by the end of tomorrow, she would have a fake boyfriend to take home for Christmas. Even if it was Bellamy Blake.
1. One

**A/N**: Hi guys! So, I recently watched a bunch of Christmas movies, and I was inspired to write a festive Bellarke fic. I'm not too sure how long this is going to be, but know that it covers Christmas and the days after. I'm super psyched about it so I hope you guys like it! I'm hoping to have it finished by Christmas, so fingers crossed!

Please leave a review and let me know if you liked it – I love feedback x

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><p><strong>ONE<strong>

Really, Clarke was dreading the upcoming week. Christmas with her parents, obviously, and the Jaha's too; Thelonious and his son Wells spent it with the Griffins every year – since his wife passed away – and every year, every goddamn year, Clarke's mother seemed intent on marrying her off to Wells.

It was surprising, really. Clarke loved her mother – and her father, of course – and she wanted to make them happy, but the idea of Clarke and Wells fitting together like a perfect couple didn't sit well with her. In truth, Wells was one of her best friends. They'd been through school together, and were in separate colleges, but they stayed in touch where they could and made the effort to see each other. But Clarke had never felt any kind of pull towards him.

He'd taken her to prom and, sure, they'd shared a kiss. But it was agreed upon pretty much right away that Clarke and Wells were much more like brother and sister than anything else. She wanted him in her life, just not like that.

Her parents, and Thelonious for that matter, didn't much care for that.

'They're convinced we're going to wind up together,' Clarke said, huffing as she fell backwards on to her roommate's bed. She folded her hands over her stomach and peered over to where Raven was tinkering with her computer at the desk.

'Maybe you will,' said Raven absently. She'd pulled off the hard case of her laptop and was fiddling with what looked like a credit card, all green and covered in tiny golden specs. Clarke thought Raven called it a hard board, or a memory drive or something like that.

'We won't,' Clarke muttered defiantly. 'Doesn't make a difference either way; I'm still going to be spending the holidays keeping them and their silly remarks at bay. And the looks they give us – ugh!'

Clarke grabbed a pillow and attempted to smother herself. She stopped upon feeling someone pat her stomach. A weight dropped next to her on the bed, and she cast the pillow aside to reveal Octavia, their third roommate, who she hadn't heard come in. She laid down next to Clarke at the foot of Raven's double bed, kicking off her shoes.

'You're so glad your day wasn't my day,' she said, taking the pillow Clarke had put down and setting it under her head. Clarke moved up to rest her own on it, too.

'What happened?' Raven asked, still not looking up from her project. Her tone was dry; she and Octavia got on well enough, but now and then they had very little patience for each other. Raven didn't like it when Octavia complained – she claimed she did it too much – and Octavia would always call Raven out on acting high and mighty.

'_You've got a hell of a brain, Reyes. Why not try using it for something other than being a bitch?'_

Clarke recalled the first time she'd introduced the two of them and winced. Thankfully, Jasper and Monty had been around to intervene. They were friends, even if sometimes they were loathed to admit it, and Clarke knew that one without the other wouldn't last all that long. A smile touched her lips, just briefly, before she was brought back to the present by a cushion being flung across the room and landing in her lap.

'Hey!' she called to Raven, who had set her computer aside and was smirking at her.

'Sorry, I was aiming for numskull over there.'

'Shut up,' Octavia said, and she rolled her eyes. 'Anyway, like I was saying. I got in a fight with Bellamy again. He's been so touchy lately.'

'Maybe someone pushed the stick even further up his ass,' Clarke grumbled, and Raven snorted. 'What?' Clarke asked when Octavia turned to stare at her with _that look_. 'Sorry, you know he gets to me.'

'Oh, we know,' said Raven, trudging over and taking up the last bit of space on the bed, the other side of Clarke. 'We were all here for the housewarming party.'

'The plate just slipped out of my hand,' Clarke said innocently, shrugging.

'Yeah,' said Octavia, rolling onto her side. She propped herself up with her elbow and grinned. 'And Bellamy said he didn't realize his glass was still full.'

'He still owes me for the damn carpet. Who drinks red wine at a party?' Clarke folded her arms even tighter.

'Um,' Raven smirked. 'You do, _princess_.' She and Octavia laughed, and Clarke reached for the pillow to smother herself again.

'Sometimes I just invite him over to see the two of you go at it.'

'On the rare occasion he isn't a complete ass, he's actually interesting to talk to.'

Octavia nodded.

'What were you fighting with him about?' Raven asked, sounding mildly interested as she examined her nails.

'Christmas,' Octavia sighed loudly, flopping onto her back once again. 'Lincoln's family invited me there, and they said Bellamy could come too but he's being stubborn. He still doesn't like Lincoln.'

'Does he like anyone?' Clarke asked.

'Octavia,' Raven volunteered, '…and I think that's it.'

Octavia opened her mouth to protest, looked at Raven and Clarke, and then decided better of it and put her head back down. 'You're probably right. He doesn't hate anyone, he's just…moody.'

'Well,' said Clarke, bracing herself on Raven and Octavia's knees to push herself up. 'My Christmas will be worse than yours, don't you worry.'

'They're still getting on at you about Wells? Pretty sure that ship has sailed,' said Octavia, following Clarke into the kitchen.

They lived in a nice apartment, just fifteen minutes from campus. With Clarke studying medicine and Octavia going into social work, they had pretty hectic schedules and when Raven found them the three bedroom place in just the right location, they jumped at the lease. They each had a room, with Raven's being slightly bigger; she always wound up bringing home bits and pieces from the garage, and when they had started to take over Clarke's previous, tiny apartment, Raven offered to figure out a new living situation. Thankfully, things had worked out for the best.

'It never even left port,' said Clarke, and Octavia giggled. 'So, how are things with Lincoln?'

Octavia's face lit up like the Christmas tree they had beside the TV, and she brushed her hair behind her ears like a schoolgirl with her first crush. 'I'm crazy about him.' They looked up upon hearing Raven's cell ringing in her room, but let her be when she closed the door.

'Where's his family from?' Clarke asked, attempting to change the subject. They both knew perfectly well who was on the other end of the call.

'Washington. We're flying down after lunch tomorrow. When do you leave?'

'Tomorrow afternoon. Raven's checking my car later to make sure it'll last the journey.'

'Probably a good idea. What is it, thirteen hours? I still don't understand your whole flying thing.'

'Me either. I just hate it,' Clarke said.

'At least you have the best mechanic working on it,' said Octavia passively. Clarke smirked at her. One of her favourite things about Octavia was how easily she cared about people, and how little she minded showing it.

'Yeah, well, you know how Raven worries.'

Clarke rolled her eyes, but deep down she knew that there were few people in her life she appreciated as much as she did Raven. Octavia and her parents and Wells of course, but Raven was her _best friend_. They'd been through a lot together, and there are certain things you can't share without ending up loving one another.

'I love Christmas,' said Octavia dreamily, seating herself at the kitchen counter. 'Are you excited?'

Clarke was about to answer when Raven emerged. She took the seat next to Octavia and smiled guiltily at Clarke. Octavia looked between them and, after realizing the great need for it, headed over to the storage closet behind the kitchen.

'I'll get the wine,' she said, excusing herself.

Clarke looked back at Raven and leaned on the counter opposite her. 'Was that Finn?'

Raven nodded. 'He's home for Christmas, so he wanted to know if I was going over.'

'Are you?' Clarke said, trying not to sound too blatant. Raven shook her head.

'No, my Mom said she was cooking this year, so…'

Raven trailed off. Her mother had never been reliable, between the drugs, the alcohol and the countless men she tramped through the house while Raven was growing up. But Raven didn't want to give up, and it seemed that this year things were finally going to turn around.

'I said we could hang out. I miss him sometimes…' she looked Clarke in the eye and shrugged. 'Sorry.'

'Don't be; you grew up together. That won't go away because of everything that happened.'

Clarke would be lying if she said she wasn't a little jealous. She'd been crazy about Finn, and he about her, but when it came out that he already had a girlfriend and she and Raven came face to face, it was all too much. Finn had vowed to do better, to be better, but Clarke couldn't bring herself to believe him.

Raven had been devastated, but she asked Clarke to meet her and lo and behold, they put everything behind them and moved forward together. But Finn would always be there, in the back of their minds, as the one thing they had shared and never would again.

'Anyway,' said Raven, sitting straighter. 'What's your plan for avoiding the inevitable?'

Octavia re-emerged then, carrying a bottle of red and switching off her phone. 'Sorry that took so long, that was Bellamy asking where I left the can opener.'

'No apology?' Raven asked.

Octavia scoffed. 'Don't be ridiculous. Alright, who wants a glass?'

Clarke pulled three from the cupboard and they settled into the living area, flicking through channels on the television. Reruns of Friends and a few other hit and miss comedies were about the only thing on TV, other than Christmas movies. They settled on one and, a couple of hours later, were safely merry.

'It'd be much easier if I had a boyfriend I could take home with me,' Clarke mused, swirling the last of her wine. 'Can I borrow Lincoln?'

Octavia chuckled. 'Nice try, but I'm pretty sure his family would know something was up when I showed up to his house without him.'

'You could hire somebody to do it, like in Pretty Woman. Except you're Richard Gere and, hopefully, you don't have any prostitutes on call,' said Raven helpfully.

Laughing, Octavia gestured at a picture of her and her brother on the coffee table. 'You could take Bellamy. God knows he won't be coming with me, and I don't want him to be alone.'

'Clarke's mom's plates are too expensive for that,' Raven laughed. Clarke slapped her on the arm.

'I didn't throw it at him, it just… it slipped out of my hand, in his general direction. He happened to be standing right next to where it hit the wall.'

'I've never known anyone to get you as riled up as her brother.'

'Gotta agree with Raven,' said Octavia, tipping the empty bottle of wine upside down. 'All gone.'

'Probably a sign it's time for bed,' said Raven.

She stood up and offered her hands to the other two, and together the three of them wobbled over to their separate rooms. Raven said goodnight with a promise to check Clarke's car out in the morning, and Octavia said she'd be sure to say goodbye before she left. Clarke closed the door on them with a wave goodnight and collapsed onto her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she contemplated how little she was probably going to enjoy the following week. It was December 19th, and she was supposed to stay with her parents through until the 27th, at least. She threw her head back on her pillow and groaned.

She liked that she was independent, and she didn't particularly want a boyfriend after the last guy she let into her life turned out so terribly. But she knew it'd be much easier if she did have someone to take home; at the very least her parents would leave her alone about Wells, and more than that, she'd have someone to share a bed with. It had been… a while, she thought, and at least if she did hire a prostitute she'd have a good time…

Alright, that was the wine talking.

She set about getting ready for bed, being sure to set her alarm so she wouldn't miss Octavia leaving. By the time she was wrapped up under her sheets, her mind had wandered once again to the fake boyfriend idea, and she found herself rationally trying to figure out where she could get one at such short notice. Jasper and Monty were a no go – they were already home for the holidays. Miller too, for that matter. _Damn_, she thought. He would have been a good one. They had the flirty banter down, and she'd heard about his… talents from Monroe.

Her phone buzzed with a text message from Octavia.

_206-454-8673_

_Lincoln's home phone in case you need to reach me. I might forget tomorrow. Night pumpkin x_

Clarke grinned at the nickname, years old now from the first Halloween they spent together, and suddenly a thought struck her. Perhaps she would be able to find a boyfriend at short notice after all. She didn't like the guy, but like she'd told Raven and Octavia earlier, he owed her.

_Need Bellamy's no. please! x_

Octavia buzzed back right away.

_Took you long enough ;) _

The number came through a moment later, and after giving it another – heavily influenced by wine – thought, Clarke settled that, by the end of tomorrow, she would have a fake boyfriend to take home for Christmas. Even if it was Bellamy Blake.


	2. Two

**A/N: **Hey guys! I'm so pleased with the response to the first chapter of this, and I'm still super excited about it. Your feedback is always appreciated. This chapter is a little longer than the first, but bear with me. It ends on a pretty good note ;)

Please leave feedback – it's really helpful and inspires me, and a lot of other writers I'm sure – to keep going! X

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><p><strong>TWO<strong>

_**My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they're like it's better than yours, damn right, it's better than yours! I could teach you, but I'd have to charge!**_

Clarke woke to the sound of Kelis. Face down on her pillow, she groaned and blindly reached around for her cell; she reminded herself to, once again, scold Octavia for changing the ring tone. One day she'd figure out how to change it back herself; at least that way she wouldn't have to endure Raven's sass as she showed her how to do it for about the eight hundredth time.

Her head was throbbing, but only mildly, as she dragged herself out of bed and over to the mirror. She grimaced at the line of drool coming from the corner of her mouth and grabbed for a cleansing wipe to clean herself up a little. Her thick, blonde hair was matted and it took her a good two minutes to brush it all out. When she did it erupted into frizz, which she managed to tame with some serum and a curling iron.

Feeling presentable, she headed over to the window and drew back her curtains. The snow hadn't slowed down overnight; the streets were blanketed in white and the window pane was frozen; Clarke daren't try to open it. The fire escape outside her window was iced to the nines. She shivered, half dreading getting out of the city later on in the day. Once she hit the I-90 she'd be fine.

'Clarke!'

Octavia's voice came from the living room and was quickly admonished by Raven's.

'She might be asleep.'

'Well she needs to get up, because we're leaving.'

'I'm up.'

Clarke emerged quickly and spotted Lincoln first, seated quietly on the couch. He smiled.

'Hi Clarke.'

'Hi,' she replied, before shifting her gaze to the girls.

Suddenly she was encased in Octavia's iron grip and while caught quite off-guard, Clarke managed to return the gesture with equal fervour. She wouldn't see Octavia for two weeks – almost three! – so she relished the moment. Octavia's hugs had the ability to uplift any day. Usually after a terrible shift at the hospital, where Clarke volunteered, she'd come home in silence, walk through the door, drop her bag with a thud and look at her friends with heavy eyelids. Raven always got the wine, and Octavia just wrapped Clarke up in a hug so tight she managed to push away everything Clarke couldn't leave at work.

'I'll call you in a couple days,' Octavia said when she pulled away. She winked and, for the life of her, Clarke didn't understand why. 'I hope you have a great Christmas, and please take care of him.'

Of who? Her tone suggested something was at work, but she didn't have time to question it as Lincoln was ushering Octavia out of the door.

'We're going to miss our flight.'

He stopped briefly to give Clarke a one-armed hug, fist-bumped Raven, and then they were gone with final goodbyes echoing down the hallway. When they died down, Clarke turned to Raven.

'Take care of who?'

'Like I know,' said Raven, rolling her eyes. 'Anyway, you over-slept _princess_.'

Clarke clenched her jaw. Damn Bellamy Blake and his nicknames. Raven was still speaking.

'I already checked your car – you shouldn't have any problems. I cleaned out your vents too so that weird smell you were getting should be gone now. Brakes are fine, just remember not to bite down on them if you skid. It'll just make things worse. Your tires are great, they can withstand the weather no problem.'

Raven was heading for the door, scooping up a backpack filled to the brim as she went. With one hand on the doorknob, she turned back.

'Just be careful, alright? Don't get gas-happy.'

'I hope you have a great holiday,' she said honestly and then, with a little less optimism, 'You know where we are if you need us.'

Clarke pulled Raven into a hug.

'I'll see you soon,' she mumbled through Clarke's hair.

With that she was gone, and Clarke was alone in the apartment for the first time in a while. Usually she was first to leave in the morning, with voluntary shifts before class and then again after, making her last home too. It was going to be an exhausting year, between school, work and interviews for medical school. Her mother was set on Clarke going to Harvard, just like her, but Clarke had her doubts about that. Moving to Chicago had been one of the most terrifying experiences of her life, but she loved so many things about it and she wasn't sure she wanted to leave them behind. Some of the most important people in her life were there, and she knew that Raven and Octavia had no intention of leaving.

Of course Clarke wouldn't make the decision based purely on where her friends were going, but admittedly, it factored in.

_**My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they're like it's better than yours, damn right, it's better than yours! I could teach you, but I'd have to charge!**_

Clarke grumbled and trudged back to her room. She'd have to figure the damn thing out for herself now that Raven was gone, and while that frustrated her, it seeped away by the time she picked the phone up and saw who was calling.

'Bellamy?'

'Are you going to let me in or what?'

Clarke frowned. 'What?'

'It's freezing out here, open the door.'

'Where are you?'

He sighed on the other end of the phone and Clarke could just tell he was doing that thing where he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He seemed to do it a lot when they spoke.

'I'm outside the building.'

'Why?'

'Clarke, for God's sake, open the door.'

Clarke had gravitated to the intercom, and the moment she put her hand on it, everything came flooding back. The wine, getting his number, the late night text, _the ridiculous plan_ –

'Clarke!'

'Sorry.'

She buzzed him in and immediately ended the call.

_Crap. Crap. Crap!_

She pulled her sent messages up and there it was.

_Bellamy, I really need to see you. Come over tomorrow at 12 please. Clarke x_

'A kiss, Clarke? Really?' she muttered to herself as she began pacing. How on earth was she going to explain this? She knew Bellamy already thought she was an idiot, and that wasn't surprising given how little tolerance they had for each other. He'd probably only come over so that he could scold her for texting so late.

_Some people work all hours, Princess._

Clarke practically growled at the memory. There was a knock on the door. She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. Well, he was nothing if not punctual. She opened the door and, sure enough, there he was, wearing dark brown combat boots and dark wash jeans. His coat was black, coupled with a thick scarf. His nose was a little red from the cold and his hair was seasoned with snowflakes and, for a second, Clarke allowed herself the admittance that he was gorgeous.

'What's so damn important that you need to text me at one in the morning?'

'Did I wake you?'

'No,' he said, as if it was obvious. He'd probably been calling final orders at the bar.

'Why did you even come?' Clarke was truly perplexed. 'You could have just called me.'

'I did,' he said matter-of-factly, and Clarke realized her mistake as she recalled the circumstances of her waking up.

'Oh, right. Sorry. But still… you're here.'

'You asked me to be.' She wasn't satisfied, and he seemed to realize. He stepped over the threshold and stopped next to the desk that occupied a corner of the apartment. On top of it was a project Raven had been working on. It was something to do with a potential new job in the engineering sector, working for developers in sustainable energy. Raven almost had it finished. Bellamy leaned up against the desk.

'I thought something was wrong.'

Clarke felt a drop in her stomach. She was, dare she think it, flattered? It was then that she noticed the suitcase he'd left outside the door. She looked between it and him and bit her lip. 'Were you expecting Octavia to be here?'

'She lives here.'

The irritation that seemed to have melted came bubbling back at that. The way he spoke to her, and other people, sometimes just made her boil.

'Well she's already gone,' she bit back a little too venomously.

He seemed genuinely taken aback by this and his shoulders fell a little slacker. Clarke regretted the words the instant they were out. It was the truth, obviously, but she didn't need to be so… rude about it. Bellamy had probably been up half the night, frustrated and angry with himself about the argument he'd had with his little sister.

'I thought her flight was later in the day.'

Clarke eyed him, listening to the way his voice trailed off, watching how his eyes seemed to narrow a little; he was clearly upset, and she knew she was the last person he'd want to talk to about it. This was true, and he made to leave, but as he stood up from the desk it rocked. Time seemed to slow in the moments that followed. Clarke heard herself call out to warn him but they could only look on in horror as Raven's project slid from the desk. Bellamy tried but it slipped through his fingers and hit the floor. Hard.

He looked at Clarke, who in turn looked at him, and they rushed to pick up the pieces. Most of it was still intact – thank God – but there were a couple of pieces that had broken off. They didn't look that important. Hopefully they weren't, and Clarke wasn't too worried. Sure, Raven was going to be pissed off, but she was Raven; she could fix anything. Bellamy, on the other hand, looked terrified.

'Are you going to tell her that was me?' he asked quietly.

Clarke didn't look at him. She collected the last two pieces off the floor and set them down beside the rest of it, back on the desk. The pieces were no bigger than the battery in her phone. She shook her head.

'No.'

'Why not?'

Clarke tried to figure out how the pieces fit back onto it, but she gave up. Raven was the rocket scientist.

'Because she will kill you. Not me, though. I'll tell her it was an accident. She can fix it.'

'Oh… okay then.' He scratched behind his ear.'

He made for the door and took up the suitcase he'd left there, and the sight of him walking away without his family to go back to woke something up in Clarke. Sure, last night her plan had been sound. Get him to go home with her and pretend to be in love with her and all would be well, right? But now Clarke was feeling something a little different. It wasn't pity. Bellamy Blake didn't need her pity, and she knew that.

It was just sadness.

'Wait!' Clarke called. He stopped. 'You can come home with me if you want?'

He turned back, looking half amused. 'Think your Mom's dishes are probably a little too expensive for that.'

Clarke didn't like how similar Raven and Bellamy seemed to be sometimes.

'It slipped out of my hand.'

'Sure.'

'And you still owe me for the damn carpet!' She barked, and his smile faltered a little. He turned his back again and was approaching the stairwell. Clarke found her voice once more.

'If you're leaving you could at least give me a hand getting my suitcase down to the car.'

Ten minutes later Clarke was dressed and saying a temporary goodbye to her apartment. In her head, of course. Bellamy would be insufferable if he heard her saying it out loud.

'I'm surprised a building this fancy doesn't have an elevator,' he said, and Clarke could almost taste the bitterness in his tone. She rolled her eyes.

'It's an old building; I thought you'd appreciate that. You're into… history and stuff, right?'

He raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't deny it. Clarke watched as he lifted her suitcase under one arm, with his own already in the other, and proceeded to carry it down the stairs. He was polite, at least today, and she had to give him credit for that. She followed him out into the cold air. He remembered which car was hers; the red truck at the back of the lot. It had been a gift from her parents for her 21st birthday, and she adored it. She pulled back the tarp on the back and he set her suitcase down in it.

'Okay, see ya,' he said, turning on his heel.

'Hey,' Clarke grabbed his arm and he looked back at her. 'Octavia said you were going to be alone for Christmas,' he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and avoided her gaze. Clarke took her hand off his arm and opened the passenger door for him. 'Look, I know we're not best friends, but I love Octavia and you do too and you just know she's kicking herself that she didn't drag you to Washington kicking and screaming, so…' she gestured to the empty seat, but he still didn't budge.

'Get in the car Bellamy,' she whined.

He looked at her again, as if trying to figure her out.

'Why?'

Clarke bit her lip. In the back of her mind, the ridiculous fake boyfriend plan was still somewhat brewing. Sure, he could do her this one favour and it would all work out, but at the forefront was the real reason.

'I don't want you to be alone.'

She had no worldly idea why she even cared about Bellamy Blake. It was probably an extension of her love for Octavia; yeah, that had to be it, and Octavia would be happy if she knew Bellamy was being taken care of. He seemed to forget to do it so often. He was very proud, and Clarke only knew this because she was the same way. Eventually, after exchanging looks, he conceded defeat.

'Okay.'

Clarke smiled to herself as she closed the door behind him.

'We're going to be driving into the night. Why did you leave so late?' he asked when she slipped into the driver's seat.

Clarke shrugged, checking her mirrors before pulling out. 'I like driving at night.'

'Even when the roads are so icy? That's smart, princess.'

'Oh, don't start!' Clarke reprimanded him. She reached for the radio and turned up a cover of All I Want for Christmas. Beside her, Bellamy grimaced. 'What?'

'We're not listening to that for the next thirteen hours,' he said, as it if was obvious. He rummaged around in the glove compartment but found only a half-eaten bag of mints, a pair of men's gloves and a pocketbook of medical terms. He held up the book.

'I leave it there so I never forget it,' Clarke informed him. He held up the gloves, which were obviously a men's pair, and Clarke's stomach fell a little. 'They're Finn's.'

'Finn Collins?' he poked, looking out the window. 'I know him.'

'You do?'

He nodded. 'I met him when I brought Octavia to Northwestern on her first day. Think she had a little thing for him.' He glanced at her. 'Must have been going around.'

Clarke said nothing. She reminded herself that Bellamy was a few years older; only three or four, if she remembered right. Now that she was twenty two, that hardly mattered. They fell into a comfortable enough silence as another Christmas classic stirred up on the radio.

'I thought we weren't listening to this,' Clarke said, glancing briefly at him. He shrugged, keeping his gaze ahead.

They pulled onto the freeway.

One of the things Clarke liked about Bellamy, of which there were few, was that he didn't speak too much. Octavia had always been vocal, but Bellamy kept to himself and rarely gave his opinion unless asked. Or, in Clarke's case, he was goaded. Raven was right; he was, so far at least, the only person that could rile her up enough to make her throw plates. Clarke suspected he felt the same way about her. It's what made it all the more surprising when he said what he said next.

'Thanks.'

Clarke furrowed her brow. 'What?'

'Don't make me say it again.'

'Okay.'

Clarke drew her lips into a thin line as she checked her mirrors again and switched lanes. She heard Bellamy's stomach growl but ignored it; he hadn't said anything, and she was sure he would tell her if he wanted to stop. They had a good twelve hours and fifty minutes left to go – not that Clarke was counting, or anything. She could see him in the corner of her eye. Bellamy was always so calm; collected. On the outside he was still, but she knew inside, at this very moment, he was storming. She could see it in the way he reached up to rub the side of his face, and how he cleared his throat now and then.

And while she knew he had plenty on his plate, what with being a good few states away from his sister for Christmas and having parted with her on bad terms, Clarke couldn't quiet the nagging in the back of her mind left over from the night before. Suddenly, before she had time to reason herself out of it, she was speaking.

'I need a favour.'

He looked at her sceptically. They weren't friends, after all, and friends did each other favours. What they were was… neither here nor there.

'What?'

As they came to a stop behind a long, long line of traffic, Clarke turned to him and chuckled nervously.

'I kind of have an ulterior motive here.'

He was looking at her the way he had after she'd accused him of being a self-righteous prick that one time; eyebrows raised high and lips drawn thin.

'When we get home, Wells Jaha is going to be there.'

'Okay,' Bellamy said slowly, like this wasn't news. They'd met a few times, and didn't have the best impression of each other. Wells had been present for The Incident, as Clarke had decided to refer to it. People weren't going to let her forget about it, so she figured a moniker was appropriate.

'My parents and his father have this idea that he and I are going to ride off into the sunset together one day.'

'So?'

'So they spend pretty much every Christmas hinting and joking and commenting and making those 'hum ha' noises whenever we're together. They're getting more and more obvious, and last night after a bottle of wine with your sister and Raven, I mentioned how much easier it would be if I had a boyfriend to take home with me…'

'Oh God.' He stressed the words and ran his hand over his face. 'Are you serious?'

Still stopped in traffic, Clarke turned to him with an innocent look in her eye. She didn't know how to convince him; she probably should have asked Octavia for advice on that last night too, back when she also thought this was a good idea. But it was out now, and even if she decided to go back on it, she still had to spend the next week with him.

'Think you could manage it?'

He let out what sounded like a long held in breath.

'You _are _serious,' he said slowly.

'Yeah, and before you say no, I'd like to remind you that you now owe me for two things; the carpet you and your stupid wine ruined, and keeping you safe from Raven.'

He laughed. 'Keeping me safe? She's not actually going to hurt me.'

'Maybe not outright. But she's smart, and you know what else? Patient.'

He said nothing.

'Bellamy?'

Still nothing.

'It's just over a week. Then we can go our separate ways, tell my parents we broke up and have done with it. We don't even have to tell anyone else. Except Octavia already knows, and she's probably been texting Raven about it since she left. Plus I'm going to call Raven at some point this week and tell her if Octavia hasn't already. So it's just the four us, really. Actually Octavia probably told Lincoln, too.'

He looked out the window.

'Please, just do this for me Bellamy?'

The traffic started moving again and they picked up speed. After another Christmas song had finished playing on the radio, Bellamy huffed angrily and then, finally, he spoke.

'How long have we been together?'


	3. Three

**A/N:** Hey guys – had more GREAT feedback about this, including a few people who wanted Bellamy's POV! Here it is. Hope you like it! Brief swearing in this one; I tend to think of Bellamy as a swearer.

Please continue to leave feedback, I'm so grateful!

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><p><strong>THREE<strong>

Bellamy wasn't so much concerned about Clarke's driving as he was the fact that, for a doctor in training, she didn't seem to be great at multitasking. One moment she'd be talking, words lightning fast, and paying less attention to the road, and then she'd break off mid-sentence to concentrate solely on the way ahead. Bellamy was left hanging on her last word, waiting for her to finish her thought. Usually, she forgot what it was.

She was likely the most intelligent girl he knew, second behind Raven perhaps, and it surprised him how…silly she could be sometimes. He wasn't sure what wound him up more; her silliness, or her know it all-ness. He surveyed her; her brow was scrunched as she concentrated on the traffic, and she looked the way she had when he'd crossed paths with her at the hospital's blood drive a few weeks earlier. She'd had a pen in her mouth as she went through a patient's chart with a doctor, brow creased in deep concentration, twirling a lock of that mane of golden hair around her finger. She did that a lot; when she was cooking, when she was deciding what take out she wanted, what she was writing a paper, when she was on the phone -

'Why are you staring at me?'

_Fuck._

'Just trying to figure out how we're going to make this work,' Bellamy said, shifting in his seat. 'Sorry, _princess_.'

Clarke rolled her eyes. 'I wish you wouldn't call me that.'

Bellamy looked her over again. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd started calling her by the nickname, but now whenever he saw her or thought about her, the word just seemed to fit. Her with her hair, her eyes and her parents' careers; in juxtaposition to his own life, Clarke had grown up privileged and, to be honest, he resented that a little. Not for himself, but for Octavia, and not that he'd ever say it out loud. He'd kept Octavia happy over the years, he knew that. He only regretted that he hadn't been able to give her the life Clarke had been blessed with. None of that was Clarke's fault, or by her own doing, but Bellamy knew himself to be irrational at times. Those times just happened to fall whenever he was around Clarke.

'Bellamy?' What's with you?'

He cleared his throat. 'Whatever. Let's get back to it. How long have we been together?'

'Officially, three months and unofficially, about six. We didn't want to tell anyone because we weren't sure how serious it was and we didn't want to make things awkward for Octavia if we were to break up.'

'But now we're official.'

'Yup, and we're in love.'

His eyebrows shot up. 'Me and you?'

'You and me,' she replied, smiling sweetly at him.

Bellamy looked at her, then at the road, and then back again. 'They're never gonna buy this.'

'Sure they will,' Clarke said, sounding a little more desperate than she probably would have liked. 'Octavia told me about those theatre classes you took in freshman year.'

Bellamy's mouth dropped, but he composed himself quickly and hit back. 'All this just so your parents won't tease you about Wells Jaha? Seems a little extreme.'

'That was the plan last night, after a bottle of red. Now it's just convenient. So let's start from the top. Your birthday is in May, right?'

'May 5th.'

'And you're 26.' He nodded. 'Mine's November 16th and I'm –'

'22, I know.' When she looked quizzically at him, he scoffed. 'You're Octavia's age. I'm not stupid.'

'Right. Sorry. Oh, could you dial my parents for me? They'll want to make sure I'm on the way.'

She reached over his lap, down into the foot well, and retrieved her cell from her bag. Bellamy's hands were raised up by his shoulders; a pulse had shot through him the moment she'd grazed her hand over his thigh. Did this girl have no notion of personal space?

'What are you doing?' he asked heatedly.

'Sorry.'

When she was safely back on her side of the car, she handed him the phone.

'Who still has a flip phone?' he muttered under his breath, and Clarke shot him a look.

'Just call them, please.'

He did as he was told.

'Put it on speaker.'

'Do these things even have speaker?'

'Shut up, Bellamy.'

'Clarke!' Abby Griffin's happy tone filtered through the car. The signal wasn't great.

'Hi Mom,' Clarke said, a smile spreading across her face. 'We're on the I-90, an hour in. You can expect us at about 2 in the morning.'

'I really wish you wouldn't drive so late. I'd rather you stopped somewhere overnight. You can use the credit card to cover it – wait, who's we?'

'Me… and my boyfriend.' Clarke said through gritted teeth.

Bellamy daren't glance at her. From the corner of his eye he could see she was concentrating very hard on the traffic ahead, and gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white. There was silence on the other end of the phone, and Bellamy just knew her mother was probably trying to figure out how she'd missed that little nugget of information. Clarke looked at Bellamy.

_Say something,_ she mouthed. He rolled his eyes, but obliged.

'Hi Mrs Griffin.'

More silence, and then -

'Bellamy Blake?'

'The one and only,' Clarke said, forcing a grin that didn't matter either way. Beside her, Bellamy was doing the same.

'It's a really long story.'

'I thought you said he was a pain in the a-'

'Mom,' Clarke admonished. 'Like he said, long story.'

'Well…' Abby said, only just managing to sound convinced. 'In that case, you needn't stop overnight. Just be safe and we'll see you soon. Both of you.' She seemed to be having trouble with it. Bellamy could relate.

'Bye Mom.'

'Bye Mrs Griffin.'

The tone clicked off and Clarke shot a sideways glance at Bellamy. He put her phone back in her bag without a word, and then relaxed in his seat. It was a little while before he spoke, and he was sure Clarke appreciated the silence. It gave them both time to think a few things over. Bellamy was occupied with thoughts of physicality; was he supposed to touch her when they were there? Put his arm around her shoulders, smooth her hair, that kind of thing. He was sure Clarke was mulling over what they would say, trying to get their story straight. She was into facts and figures, and while he appreciated the art of a fine cover up, he wasn't one for many words; he'd always been fonder of showing appreciation for things.

Except Clarke's cream carpet. His jaw hardened at the memory. The two of them in the kitchen, Clarke seething, Bellamy practically foaming at the mouth over that damn argument. Before he knew it there was red wine on the carpet and a plate smashing next to him on the wall. Since then, they'd barely been able to string a few sentences together in each other's presence; they only really made the effort for Octavia. And yet Clarke was dragging him home with her for the holidays. Of course, it had all been a ruse to get him in the car and corner him over the nonsense that was their fake relationship, but before that Bellamy would swear he'd seen a genuine softness in her eyes when she looked at him.

_I don't want you to be alone._

The words played on his mind, the same way her and that damn twirling hair trick did.

'You liked me first,' she said, and that brought Bellamy right back to the present.

'What?' he spluttered. 'I don't, I mean… look –'

'I just think it works better that way,' said Clarke. She hadn't noticed his shock. 'My mom was right; I told my parents you were a pain in the ass. It just makes more sense if _you_ liked _me_ first.'

'Right…' he said, feeling a heat rise in the back of his neck. Good God, this girl had the ability to rile him up like no other. 'Right, sure. So what, I just decided one day to ask you out and you said yes? Even though you hate me?'

'I don't hate you,' Clarke said defiantly, looking at him as if it was so obvious and how could he have missed it?

'You don't?'

She shook her head. 'Of course not. You just piss me off.'

Bellamy scoffed, raising his eyebrows. 'Well, you piss me off too.'

'Good.'

'Great.'

'Awesome,' she said, gripping the steering wheel tight again. 'We're not going to get anywhere like this.'

'Then what do you suggest, princess?' he smiled sweetly through the last word, batting his eyelashes. Clarke sighed.

'How about we ran into each other at a mutual event, like a friend's party, and we didn't know anyone else and we wound up spending the evening together and you asked if I wanted to hang out again, and I agreed – albeit sceptically at first – but then you surprised me by taking me to dinner and then to a reading by my favourite author –'

'Francesca Keen,' he interjected quickly. Clarke stopped.

'What? You buy one of her books every time you come by the store,' he said, as if _that_ was obvious. He didn't like the way she was looking at him. 'Plus Octavia told me when she was shopping for your birthday.'

Clarke looked back at the road. 'Right, yeah. Of course. Anyway…' she seemed to be having difficulty remembering her train of thought, but got there in the end. 'So you took me to a reading, and I was surprised and we agreed to hang out again and then you declared your love for me in the middle of a crowded mall and –'

'I declared my love for you?' Bellamy laughed.

'What? I'm not allowed to have dreams of over the top romantic gestures?'

'That's not what I'm saying, it's just… that's not something I would do – _ever_. Sorry, we're gonna have to come up with something else. I couldn't tell that story with a straight face.'

'Fine,' said Clarke through gritted teeth. 'What would you prefer?'

'How about just a quiet night in? We went to the reading, I walked you home and that was it?'

'That was what?' Clarke whined.

'That was it – we started seeing each other.'

'God, a little romance won't kill you Bellamy.'

'I'm just not that kind of guy. You knew that going into this.'

'Apparently not.'

'Well, then you should have started dating Jasper.'

'Well I chose you!' Clarke snapped.

'You just said it was convenient!'

Bellamy wasn't sure when they'd started arguing like they were actually in a relationship, but he didn't like it. Neither did Clarke, it seemed. Bellamy could see how tense her shoulders were. He didn't actively try to wind her up, at least not all the time, but he didn't like being the one that, as she put it, pissed her off either. Clarke glanced at him and deflated a little, then gave him a small smile. Bellamy felt better for it.

'Alright, we'll compromise,' he said. 'I walked you home, we said goodnight, both a little disappointed and then I came back five minutes later and kissed you. And that was that. Deal?' he held out his hand.

Clarke observed it, glancing between his face and his hand, and then reached awkwardly over.

'Deal,' she said, and there was that smile again. 'Maybe we should start writing all this down. We can test each other later. Still another twelve hours to go.'

'Don't I know it,' Bellamy said, but he was smiling too.

Two hours later, they pulled over to grab something to eat. Clarke started filling up on gas and Bellamy went in to pay, with instructions on what Clarke wanted; sandwiches, a diet coke, some jelly snakes and Doritos. Bellamy wasn't so sure what he was hungry for. He glanced out of the window and watched as Clarke handled the gas pump. She was looking over her shoulder at the black Mercedes that had pulled up behind her. A guy about Bellamy's age stepped out and pulled off a pair of aviators. He had a blue v neck jumper on, over a white shirt, paired with black jeans. He bit his lip and grinned, checking Clarke out.

Bellamy made sure he had everything and headed for the cashier.

Outside, the guy was still smiling at Clarke as he started pumping his own gas. Clarke smiled back, not at all genuine, and turned back to her car. She happened to look up and then caught Bellamy's gaze. He raised his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes, jerking her head discreetly in the Mercedes' direction.

'Sir? Are you ready to pay?' the cashier asked. She sounded very far away.

'Shit, sorry.'

The cashier chuckled. She was a redhead with a round face and pretty eyes. 'It's okay, she's beautiful. Looks a little like my girlfriend, actually.'

Bellamy smiled. 'Thirty dollars' worth, please,' he said, nodding at Clarke's truck.

The cashier nodded. 'Going home for the holidays?'

Bellamy nodded. 'Back to her folks in Conneticut.'

'Long drive,' the cashier said. Bellamy made a point of checking her name badge. Susie. 'How long have you been together?'

Bellamy recognized the opportunity to test himself. 'Three months, officially. Unofficially, about six.' He echoed Clarke's words. 'She's friends with my sister – we didn't want to make things awkward.' The cash drawer bell rang and Bellamy finished paying. 'Thanks Susie. Happy holidays, to you and your girlfriend.'

'You too!' Susie chimed in a sing song voice, looking pleasantly surprised.

Bellamy understood; he worked with customers in all three of his jobs, and it was surprising how far a little niceness went. As he made his way back to the car, he noticed the Mercedes guy seemed to be gathering the gall to approach Clarke; she was oblivious, trying to find reception for her cell. He'd have to remind her she wasn't supposed to use it at gas stations. Bellamy crossed the forecourt just as Mercedes guy set off towards her. Bellamy reached her first.

He handed her the diet coke and she grinned, and that's when he pecked her on the lips. He kept his eyes open, as did she, and while the kiss was as brief as they come, Bellamy knew it had done the job. Clarke followed his direction and looked round to where Mercedes guy was retreating back to his car.

'Don't need you to rescue me, Blake,' Clarke said, amused. The kiss hadn't seemed to phase her at all, though her cheeks were flushed.

'I know,' Bellamy went back around to the passenger seat. When she closed her door and started the ignition, he continued. 'Just figured we should pass the first test.'

'And what test is that?' Clarke asked, pulling back onto the road.

'Whether it's believable.'

'And was it?'

'Backed away, didn't he?' Bellamy asked, unwrapping her sandwich for her.

She nodded as she took it, but Bellamy knew what she was thinking. Mercedes guy didn't really know either of them. They'd have to be much better if they planned on convincing Clarke's parents, of all people. Clarke took a bite of her sandwich – chicken caeser – and a little dressing dripped onto her chin. She giggled and wiped it away, and as he watched her Bellamy felt a little better about the whole thing. Maybe it wouldn't be so difficult after all.

_**My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they're like it's better than yours, damn right, it's better than yours! I could teach you, but I'd have to charge!**_

Bellamy frowned. He was about to tuck in to his own sandwich – just regular ham – when Clarke's bag started vibrating next to his feet with that goddamn song. It had been Octavia's alarm for years, and he loathed it. Beside him, Clarke was rolling her eyes.

'Octavia changed it before she left. I don't know how to change it back. Could you answer it for me?'

Bellamy put his sandwich up on the dash and picked up her purse. He rummaged around, finding her wallet, a notebook, a half-eaten pack of mints – she had a thing for mints – a pack of tissues, her house keys, a tampon; everything but her phone. Finally, he found it right at the bottom. He saw the name on the front.

'Finn,' he muttered, looking at her.

She looked dead ahead. 'Just screen it.'

He did as he was told and the call went to voicemail. The silence between them was uncomfortable; Octavia had told him what had happened, briefly. He knew Clarke and Raven dated the guy at the same time, or something, but Bellamy didn't know how serious things had gotten. Given the look on Clarke's face, he could guess.

_**My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they're like it's better than yours, damn right, it's better than yours! I could teach you, but I'd have to charge!**_

'Screen,' Clarke said, before Bellamy could ask. 'I don't want to start the holidays in a bad mood.'

Bellamy bit his lip. He had an idea. It was quite risky, but whether or not Clarke would appreciate it was another thing entirely. The music stopped suddenly, and Bellamy was almost disappointed he hadn't a chance to put his plan into action.

_**My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they're like it's better than yours, damn right, it's better than yours! I could teach you, but I'd have to charge!**_

Or not.

'Hello?' he'd answered before Clarke could stop him. She looked dumbstruck.

'Who's this?' Finn Collins asked on the other end.

'Who's this?' Bellamy countered. Clarke was slapping him on the thigh.

'Hang up,' she said.

'Is that Clarke? Could you put her on?' Finn asked.

'Sorry, who is this?' Bellamy asked again.

'Finn. Who are you?'

'Bellamy,' Bellamy answered, 'her boyfriend.' Clarke stopped hitting him.

'What?'

'My girlfriend would appreciate it if you'd stop calling her.'

'Or what?' Finn challenged. Bellamy could just imagine his face, and he loved it.

'Or nothing, if you stop calling. If not, you and me are going to have a problem.'

Bellamy clapped the phone closed and put it back in Clarke's purse. He didn't say a word as he picked his sandwich back up. Clarke was back to looking at the road. The traffic was starting to thin out a little bit ahead, and she relaxed a little in her seat.

'Well, that's one can of worms. Might as well open the other,' she said quietly. 'Are you going to call Octavia?'

'She's in the air right now.'

Clarke smirked. 'You're not so good at apologies, huh.'

Bellamy made to protest, but he couldn't deny it and if anyone knew that, Clarke did. They'd had their fair share of arguments, and while she'd never apologized, neither had he. He was struck suddenly by the thought of them together; they'd argued so many times. In fact, what they were doing now was a rarity. Were they, dare he say it, enjoying each other's company?

'You're staring again,' Clarke said. 'Really getting into the character, aren't you? Is that something they teach in Acting 101?' She winked and took another bite of her sandwich.

Bellamy chuckled. 'Shut up, princess.'

Well, he certainly didn't hate his current situation, if that was anything to go by.


	4. Four

**A/N**: Hey guys, chapter four is here! I really want to get this finished by Christmas, and I don't foresee it being that long. Once we get to the Griffins things will start moving faster. In the meantime there are some subplots brewing, as you'll see in this chapter!

I'm so grateful for the response so far, and I hope you like this chapter too. We jump around POV's this time! Please continue to leave feedback - you have no idea how much it helps get the words out x

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><p><strong>FOUR<strong>

'I always thought Bell would get married first.'

Octavia held her left hand aloft before her, staring dreamily at the square cut diamond sitting on her ring finger. She was so happy to have it back on; without it, she felt like something was missing, and she was without it so often these days that it was starting to bother her. They had good reasons, of course, for keeping it to themselves. Lincoln wanted Octavia to meet his mother without the added pressure of her knowing Octavia was going to be around for a long time, and Octavia knew exactly how Bellamy would react. Not well.

Her ring was catching the light from the window perfectly. Octavia smiled and slid her hand down Lincoln's forearm, then intertwined their fingers.

'I'm so happy,' she sighed dreamily, slouching down. Lincoln put his head on her shoulder.

'You have to tell him eventually,' he said quietly, and there was a slight edge to his tone. Octavia rolled her eyes.

'My two boys just can't get along, huh?' she said playfully, turning her gaze on the clouds outside. 'He won't be happy.'

'We're not doing this to make him happy,' Lincoln said, going back to his book. 'But you're right.'

'You only butt heads so much because you're exactly the same,' Octavia said, looking back at him and nuzzling the side of his head. She dotted a kiss to his temple. 'And you're both butt heads.'

The corners of his lips turned up but he didn't give an inch.

'Are you going to call him when we land?'

'Of course. He's a pain in the ass but he's still my brother. I just hope Clarke got her way.'

Lincoln's smile remained in place. Octavia observed him; one of her favourite Lincoln faces was that very one. Eyes glued to this book, nostrils flaring on occasion. He always looked peaceful; he _was_ peaceful. Octavia had grown up in so much chaos; her and Bellamy's mom did her best, saved enough money to put Bell through school, and to start Octavia off; Bellamy had seen her through the past two years, and he was working hard to make sure she got to graduate. Aurora hadn't been around to see Octavia go off to college, and she'd been in another one of her dead-end programs most of Bellamy's senior year.

He'd found their mother on the bathroom floor a few months into Octavia's freshman year. Since then, it had just been the two of them. Now it would be the three of them, and all Octavia wanted was for Bellamy and Lincoln to love each other as much as she loved them; alright, perhaps not quite that much, but enough to get along for a common good. They were so alike in so many ways; Octavia was amazed they didn't see it.

Clarke was just as stubborn, she mused. Her mind wandered to where she hoped her brother was, sitting alongside Clarke on the long drive back to the Griffins in Connecticut. What she would pay just to be a fly on the window in _that_ situation. Octavia wasn't surprised her best friend and Bellamy didn't get along most of the time, but the irony of it all was that they agreed on things a lot more than they didn't, just not to one another's face. One of them would always make a snide or sassy remark, and the other's temper would flare immediately. It was entertaining, really, but sometimes it got a little out of hand. All that tension between them, and Octavia knew the perfect way to release it. Hopefully Bellamy spending his Christmas with her family would move things along in that department…

'You've got that look,' said Lincoln.

'You're not even looking at me.'

'I know your looks.'

'Okay, clever boy. You know this is my first Christmas without Bell around?' It seemed to hit her then, and she stilled. 'Ever since Mom died it's been just us, and I just left him there.'

Lincoln squeezed her hand. 'It's not your fault he's so stubborn. He was invited.'

'Yeah, and he just felt _so_ welcome,' she quipped, but she didn't find herself funny. 'I can't believe I didn't try harder. I didn't even think about it all that much; I've been so focused on us and school and my career and I didn't even think –'

'Hey,' Lincoln put his book down and put a hand under her chin. He kissed her gently. 'There's no place in the world your brother is better off than with Clarke. He would hate my family,' he said, smirking. 'They're all too much like me. At least with the Griffins he's with someone he likes.'

'You think he likes her?' Octavia asked hopefully.

He scoffed. 'I've never seen Bellamy look at anyone the way he looks at Clarke.'

Octavia grinned, looping her arm around his, and propped her head on his shoulder. He picked up his book and resumed where he left off. He tore through more books than even Bellamy did, and she loved that about him. Lincoln was everything she'd wanted when she was younger; exciting but stable, sensible where she was spontaneous and, above all, someone who just understood her. Octavia and Bellamy hadn't been the luckiest kids growing up, and she needed someone who understood that part of her life. As different as she was now, as independent as she was proud to be, she still liked having someone to go home to at the end of the day that knew exactly where her head was without having to ask. She sighed, happy as she could be, and closed her eyes.

'Why did you think Bellamy would get married first?'

'I don't know,' she said, picturing her brother in a tux suddenly, standing at the end of a long aisle. Outdoors, of course, in the summer. He looked so happy. 'I guess because he's older.'

'Well, I'm the same age, so that counts. Besides, I don't think anyone will marry him if that stick gets any higher up his ass.'

Octavia smirked. 'Clarke said something like that…'

'Funny,' Lincoln said, but Octavia missed his chuckle. Her mind was already elsewhere.

'I'm going to tell Raven first. I think she'll be least judgemental.'

'And least surprised,' said Lincoln, finally looking up. He kissed her forehead. 'She helped pick out the ring.'

* * *

><p>Raven Reyes didn't cry. She wasn't some puddle of tears, shaking shoulders, incoherent mumbling mess. Not since she was six years old and she realized finally, and for the hundredth time, that her mother wouldn't be home for dinner. Raven had become quite proficient at fending for herself, and as such she didn't mind long walks alone in her old neighbourhood. It wasn't the most high end area; her mother barely made rent when she wasn't high off her ass, let alone when she was. Raven still kept in touch with some of her old friends there, too.<p>

It was where she met Finn. One evening, when she was seven and it was the height of winter, a lonely little girl had been sitting on a frozen swing in an abandoned park. Her mother had passed out in their house and the doors and windows were all locked when Raven came home from school. A little boy, who'd been with his father – a fireman - had sprinted up to her and given her his gloves. His father had come rushing over next, and they took Raven to the police department. Finn hadn't left her side all night, and his father stayed too.

When Finn's father died, Raven felt like she'd lost a parent. She had a knack for picking up family members; they just never seemed to stick around that long. The Griffins were the latest in a long line of people who'd taken her in; Clarke, in particular, invited Raven to stay in her tiny one bedroom apartment and never asked her to leave.

Raven turned the corner and began up the street towards her mother's place. Her pace slowed. The shoddy paint on the gate was peeling off, and she could see a chain wrapped around it and the fence, keeping it locked tight. There was a white sign on the front door, she noticed, as she came to a stop at the foot of the path. She could read the big bold letters easily enough. She'd seen them too many times before.

**URGENT NOTICE OF REPOSSESION. **

Raven didn't move. She was all too familiar with the washing feeling of dread as it overcame her. She sniffed, looked to the sky for a moment, and then held her head high and walked back the way she came. She needed a drink, a big one at that, and she knew just the place.

The Ark was her favourite watering hole. It was clean, warm and people kept to themselves. Bellamy worked the night shift behind the bar. During the day, the bartender was a different guy, and Raven liked to look at him sometimes to cheer herself up. He was a pretty guy, with blonde hair and a moustache, along with other dashes of stubble here and there. He had a cheeky grin, and a wit that certainly matched her own. They liked to spar, and Raven had to admit it turned her on a little bit.

'What the hell are you doing in here, wrench monkey?' he asked as she took a seat at the far end of the bar, away from all the other patrons. He addressed her with a smile. 'No toys to show me today?'

Raven shook her head, suddenly finding she wasn't in the mood for their usual banter. 'I'll take a double vodka, neat.'

He crinkled his nose. 'You're starting early. Bad day?'

'Bad life,' she replied, leaning on her elbows and looking thoroughly unimpressed. He gave her the drink and she finished it in one. Gasping, she slid the glass back to him. She spoke sternly. 'Another.'

'Relax ,Thor,' he quipped, but did as he was asked. Raven rolled her eyes at the remark and drank her second drink. It barely touched the sides before it was finished. 'Wanna talk about it?' he asked, leaning on the bar with a rag over his shoulder. How cliché, Raven thought, as she gave him the once over.

'Oh, of course. Bartenders are supposed to be psychologists in disguise, right? A shoulder to lean on? Someone to understand?' she could taste the bitter in her own tone, though it might have been the vodka. He didn't look fazed at all.

'I'm whatever you want me to be,' he said gently.

His eyes were crinkled around the edges and Raven could feel the warm radiating from him; not a lot of people looked at her like that. Finn used to. She caught herself before getting lost in memories and what could have beens. She turned her attention to the other people in the bar in an effort to distract from the bartender's _damn face_. She didn't even know his name; she'd never even asked, and she'd not given him hers. It wasn't exactly fair to be stuck thinking about his eyes, his moustache, or his lips…

'Why don't you wear a name tag?' she asked suddenly, surprised by own her voice.

He smirked. 'It's Wick.'

'Like a candle?' she jibed. His eyebrow went up. 'I'm Raven Reyes.'

'Like a bird?'

Raven giggled. _She giggled_. His eyes lit up at the sound and he cocked his head up with a half-smile. A warm feeling took flight in her stomach. She quieted herself and cleared her throat. Man, that vodka was quick.

'So what are you holiday plans?' he asked as he wiped a couple of glasses dry.

Raven shrugged. 'Spending it with the family.'

She knew where she was going to end up eventually, and she was looking forward to it. Christmas in Connecticut promised to be interesting, if Octavia's texts were anything to go by. She hadn't been officially invited, but she knew, deep down and as much as she hadn't wanted to believe it, that she would end up back with Clarke, who knew it too; she'd as good as invited her to the Griffins before Raven had left. She just had to figure out how to get there for the least amount of buck. For now, however, she had some other ideas. It had been a rough day, and she wanted more than anything to put the failure who'd given birth to her out of her mind.

'Do you have a break soon?'

'I get off for the day in a half hour.' He wiggled his eyebrows. 'What'd you have in mind, Reyes?'

As it turned out, she had him, her and her bedroom back at the apartment in mind.

Twice.

* * *

><p>'I'm not naming our son Theodore!' Bellamy was adamant.<p>

'But you think Delilah's a stellar choice for our daughter?' Clarke could barely believe it.

They were somewhere off their route in Scranton. It was coming up to midnight, and they were both starving. Clarke had pulled over sleepily and they'd found a 24 hour diner that had an ad out front for all night breakfast. The last hour of their trip had consisted of them planning their fake future together, with them agreeing at least that they'd have one boy and one girl. The names, however, were proving more difficult.

Bellamy opened the diner door and ushered Clarke through. She was still muttering about how she didn't like the name Delilah, and apparently it was just not appropriate. It wasn't _them_.

'Oh but you think Theodore is?'

'We'll call him Theo,' Clarke said, brushing him off. She looked around the diner.

There were cheap Christmas decorations lining the windows and a tree in one corner. It was rather empty, given the time of night; there was a group of teenagers, maybe seventeen, gathered around an enormous banana split. They were giggling about something; a couple of the girls took one look at Bellamy and promptly flushed, and Clarke felt an odd sense of pride when he slipped his hand through hers. They were getting good at convincing strangers, though she did find it odd that he'd decided to spring the hand holding on her. When she looked around at him, she saw a couple of trucker guys sitting up at the counter. One of them had eyes on her, which she ignored; he was harmless. She pointed to a booth in the front window and Bellamy sat down.

'I'm going to get some pancakes. What do you want?'

He made to stand up. 'I think it's waitress service.'

'I'll be quicker if I just order up there, so what are you having?'

'Waffles I guess – I'll get it.'

Clarke smiled. 'It's the least I can do. You're still in the middle of the last favour I asked you to do, so don't worry about it.'

Amid his silent protests, Clarke made her way to the counter and waited patiently for the lady to finish up with some other customers. She beamed at Clarke.

'Merry Christmas, doll! What can I get you?'

'We'll take pancakes and waffles, please. Both with maple syrup and all the extras. We've been driving a while.'

'No problem. You want some coffee while you wait?'

Clarke nodded and the woman, whose name she saw was Beth, went off to brew a new jug. Clarke looked around to her left. The truckers were busy watching a rerun of Seinfeld on the television over the counter to notice her there. She observed them quietly, and upon noticing the crest on one of their caps, she went over.

'My mother went to Harvard,' she said, smiling.

The eldest trucker looked round at her. He had a kind looking face. Beneath his cap his hair was brown and greying at the ends.

'My step-daughter.' He looked so proud. 'She sent it to me her first year.'

'It's sweet that you wear it,' Clarke said, noticing Beth heading back over.

'Family doesn't end in blood, right?' he said fondly, and Clarke nodded. Her mind went to Raven and Octavia.

'Right.'

'You're a pretty girl,' said the younger trucker, tipping his own hat to her. She glanced over her shoulder to where Bellamy was reading the menu and she sniggered. He was holding it upside down.

'Thanks,' she said, taking two mugs of coffee from Beth. 'My boyfriend thinks so, too.'

The elder trucker laughed and turned his friend back to the television. Clarke slid Bellamy's mug to him as she sat down. He put the menu down.

'I don't get where Theodore even came from.'

Clarke rolled her eyes. 'I got you waffles with bacon and syrup.'

He handed her a napkin.

'Thanks.'

She pushed the sugar over to him.

'Thank you,' he said.

He seemed concerned about something. His brow was tight and it was as if, under the surface, he was boiling. He'd been fine when they left the car, and right when they walked in. The truckers had set something off in him, she guessed. She leaned forward and touched his hand.

'Not everyone's bad, Bellamy,' she said quietly. She knew Octavia well enough to know that things hadn't always been great for the Blakes, but she didn't want to blatantly bring it up in the middle of a diner, surrounded by strangers. It was his past, not hers, and she just wanted to lighten him up a little.

The look on his face when he met her gaze was… surprised, like how could she have possibly guessed? Or perhaps Clarke was completely wrong. Either way, he didn't remark on it. He simply sat further back in his seat and withdrew his hand.

'So, like I said, where did Theodore even come from?' He said with an easy smile.

'My grandfather, maternal,' she said, before he could ask. 'We're about three hours away now.'

Clarke wrung her hands slowly, and by the time their food arrived she was twirling her hair around her finger. Bellamy was watching her, and she knew perfectly well what he was thinking; she was nervous. Well, he'd be right. She always seemed to get edgy the closer to home she got, and she knew it was because she'd soon be faced with questions about the future, about medical school, her relationship, her living situation. There were a great number of topics her mother and father would cover. She loved them dearly, and she knew they wanted the best for her. The only problem was that they didn't always agree on what the best was.

Half an hour later, they were heading back to the truck. Clarke yawned loudly. Bellamy went round to the passenger door and opened it for her.

'Come on, I'll drive the rest of the way.'

'No, you don't have to –' Clarke stopped mid-sentence as a second, much stronger yawn overcame her.

'Come on, Clarke. I'd like to get there alive,' he said, looking pointedly at her. She agreed and he shut the door behind her.

When they reached her house, Clarke noticed a few things through her sleepy state. First, there were four cars in the driveway. Her parents had one each, and she recognized Thelonious'. The fourth one was strange to her. Nevertheless, Bellamy parked in the last space on the driveway. Clarke watched his face as he looked up at the house. It wasn't enormous, but it was certainly large. Five bedrooms, with Clarke's being in the attic. It had been her sanctuary; most of her artwork was still up there, along with her sixteen year-old self's design scheme.

'Looks like a full house,' said Bellamy quietly. He turned the engine off and made to get out. Clarke put his hand on her arm.

'Hey, I really appreciate this, Bellamy.'

He nodded. 'Thank me later. Let's make sure we can pull it off first.'

The porch light came on as they locked the truck behind them and carried their bags over. It was quiet for a moment, before the door flew open and Abby rushed from the house with Clarke's father, Jake, in tow.

'Honey,' they said in unison, enveloping her. She beamed at the familiar comfort.

'How was the drive?' her father asked.

'Easy, really. Bellamy drove the last stretch – I was too tired. Why are you still up?'

'We're having drinks,' Abby smiled, leading her daughter inside.

Jake turned to Bellamy, who suddenly seemed to stand a little straighter. He held out his hand and Bellamy took it politely.

'Mr. Griffin,'

'Call me Jake,' he said warmly. Bellamy's shoulders relaxed.

'Come on in,' said Abby, looking between her daughter and her 'boyfriend'. 'The Jahas are here, already.'

'We guessed,' said Clarke.

Bellamy took her suitcase from her and followed them all inside. Her father mentioned taking their things upstairs and led the way. By the time they had reached the lounge, Clarke realized who the fourth car belonged to. Thelonious kissed her on the cheek, and she hugged hello to Wells, and then she noticed the girl sitting in the corner, all warm smiles with a cup of tea in her hands. The car belonged to Wells, and this was his girlfriend.

'Hi,' she said, shaking Clarke's hand. 'I'm Maya.'

She felt Bellamy come up close behind her. The adults busied themselves with eggnog and entrees.

'Guess you didn't need me after all,' Bellamy said. 'Wanna break up?' he whispered, and Clarke could practically hear his smirk. Oh no, not after all that effort.

She turned back, leaned up and kissed him briefly on the lips. When she drew back, she could see the impression she'd left. Confusion and amusement were doing battle on his face, and he wasn't about to let her win this one. He kissed her this time, a little longer than hers, and then topped things off with a kiss on the end of her nose.

'I'll go and help your father with our things,' he said, sliding past her.

His hands brushed her hip as he did, and Clarke couldn't be sure but as he walked away, from the corner of her eye she thought she saw him stretch his hand and then ball his fist, like the feel of her had sent a shock through him.

She had to say, she didn't mind one bit.


	5. Five

**A/N**: Sorry this took so long to reach you – I've had a hectic week, to be honest! I've been trying to find the time to write this for a while but it's finally here! FYI, I like to buy into the whole Clarke is much smaller than Bellamy dynamic, appearance-wise, so be warned there's a little passage in this chapter where Bellamy thinks about how tiny she is by comparison to him and how he finds her cute… _wink! _Just a fair warning; I know some fans don't like it so I don't want it to catch you off-guard. To each their own.

On with the show!

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE<strong>

'Who is she?'

Bellamy couldn't be sure, because he'd never seen Clarke this upset over someone other than _himself_, but he thought she might need someone to vent to. She was huffing and puffing, angrily ripping clothes out of her bag and throwing them in the direction of her dresser. Bellamy happened to be standing in front of it, and he was catching each garment with ease. Clarke was flushed; the hot air she was blowing out of her cheeks was forcing the small tendrils of hair around her face upwards. Bellamy was amused at the sight.

'Clarke?'

'Just some girl from his school,' she said to him, and then quietly added to herself: 'I can't believe he's dating _her_.'

Bellamy turned to the dresser and started folding Clarke's clothes into the drawers. The inside of the wood was paler than the outside, and there were stickers here and there of things Clarke must have liked when she was younger. There was a worn My Little Pony horse on one end of one drawer, and on the other was a Backstreet Boys emblem. Bellamy snorted, and when he heard Clarke stop behind him he could feel her eyes boring into the back of his head.

'Got something to say?' she said, and he turned to find her with arms crossed. One eyebrow was raised. Bellamy drew his lips into a thin line and shook his head subtly, but Clarke knew him better than that. 'Everybody loved the Backstreet Boys.'

'Of course they did.'

'Alright then,' she said, and she turned back to her bag.

She was more relaxed now, and a few moments later she was even humming a tune. Bellamy took the quiet moments for what they were; a ceasefire in between their, well, _fiery_ relationship. They moved around each other in the room, unpacking their things. When Bellamy came to his bag, Clarke directed him to the closet at the other end of the room. When he opened it, the light came on and he was greeted by wall to wall drawings. Sketches of all things; fruit, houses, the night sky… _oh_, the night sky one with the crescent moon in the middle, done completely in charcoal. He was mesmerized. He hung his shirts up and then pulled the drawing from the wall.

'Oh, those are so old,' Clarke said. She was suddenly next to him in the closet. Her hair tickled his arm as she leaned in. 'I'd forgotten about those,' she said in a dreamy tone.

Bellamy tore his eyes from the picture and sideways. Her hair smelled of strawberries; he hadn't noticed that before. There were weaves of light and dark blonde, all swirling together. She looked up at him with a smile that almost knocked him for six, and it would have if he hadn't been so concerned with the fact that this was _Clarke Griffin. _Octavia's best friend, roommate... Clarke Griffin that he couldn't usually stand to be in the same room as for longer than ten minutes, and yet they had never been this close…

She was still looking at him, and her tongue brushed her lips briefly. Then she was gone, back to her own bag on the bed. Bellamy put the drawing back where he'd found it and closed the closet door behind him. He looked at the clock on her desk. It was creeping up to half past three in the morning.

'Tell me again why you chose to drive so late into the night?' Bellamy tried to stifle a yawn, but it overcame him and soon, Clarke was yawning too. He eyed her bed. She was set for the night, and he looked around to try and figure out which patch of floor looked the most comfortable.

'There's extra covers at the back of the closet, and there should be a thick blanket for you to sleep on,' Clarke said in passing as she went to get the stuff for him. She retrieved them and set about making him a bed. 'I just prefer driving in the dark. Things are more interesting.'

'I think you're the only person who thinks that.'

'Maybe,' she said, and Bellamy caught the smile she tried to hide. He knelt beside her and started unfolding more blankets. 'Sorry about before.'

She said it quickly, but Bellamy relished it nonetheless. 'Was that an apology?'

She giggled and slapped him on the wrist, and then there was a knock at the door. They looked at each other, and then promptly threw all the blankets onto the bed. Bellamy went to his suitcase and started unpacking some more things. Clarke opened the door to reveal her mother, with two cups of hot cocoa. She came in, smiled warily at Bellamy, and set the cups down on the side table.

'Thank you,' said Bellamy, and it seemed to catch her by surprise.

'I'm doing dinner tomorrow evening. Don't worry if you sleep in late. I think we all will.' Abby kissed Clarke on the forehead and gave her a quick squeeze. 'It's great to have you home, sweetheart.'

She closed the door on them and Clarke sat down on the bed. Bellamy joined her.

'Your mother doesn't like me,' he said pointedly.

Clarke shrugged. 'I guess… I always used to talk about how much we didn't along. She's surprised.'

'You told her I was a pain in the ass, if I remember right.'

Clarke chuckled. 'Yeah, I did. Sorry.'

'Don't worry about it. You're just as much a pain in the ass for me.'

Clarke looked him over with mock-offense, but nestled down into the bed and laid her head back peacefully a moment later. She leaned in a little, her head just resting by his shoulder. God, she was so… _tiny_. He wasn't sure how he hadn't really noticed it before. Bellamy knew he was tall, but by comparison Clarke was a lot shorter, more so than Octavia, and she was really quite… cute. Her breathing was slow and easy, and aside from the odd clunk from another of the Griffin's guest bedrooms, it was the only thing he could really hear.

She huffed suddenly and turned to look at him.

'What?' he asked quietly. He barely recognized his own voice; she had quite the effect on him, and for some odd, unknown reason, he really didn't mind. In fact, he thought she was drawing closer to him and his heart swelled -

'I just don't get why Wells is dating Maya,' she said, and all illusions were shattered.

Bellamy cleared his throat and looked away, but she didn't move. In fact, she shuffled down the bed so she was lying flat on her back, hands entwined over her stomach. Bellamy drew one of his legs up, so his knee was bent, and he looked anywhere but at her face.

'Why does it bother you?' He was flippant in his tone, and she caught it.

'What's up with you?' she asked, turning her head.

'Nothing. You're the one who's getting antsy about someone your friend is dating – I thought the whole point of this,' he gestured between them, 'was because you didn't care and you wanted them to know that. Why else am I here?'

'Keep your voice down,' she admonished in a whisper. She rolled over onto her stomach and faced him. 'I don't not care about Wells; of course I care about him. He's one of my best friends.'

'And that gives you cause to be pissy about who he's in a relationship with? What's the big deal? Who's Maya?'

Clarke put her head in her hands and groaned.

'Last year I went to visit Wells at school – he's studying in San Francisco – and I took Jasper with me. It was a long journey that I didn't want to make by myself, and Jasper had never been to California before and asked if he could tag along. We were there for a month over the summer, and Maya really messed Jasper up. Emotionally,' she added as an afterthought.

'I gathered.'

'Anyway… she broke his heart and she wasn't even sorry. I never really talked to her while we were there. She and Jasper were always off doing something and Wells and I spent most of our time in his room –'

Bellamy ignored the prickly feeling in his stomach at those words.

'-but she hasn't so much as apologized, so I'm not interested in getting to know her.'

'You're very loyal,' Bellamy said quietly to himself, but Clarke heard nevertheless and graced him with a small smile. Her eyes lit up a little. 'Look, maybe she's changed.'

'Is this Bellamy Blake telling me to give someone a second chance?' she said playfully, poking his thigh. He smirked.

'I'm just saying… she had the guts to come to your home,' he said, and she looked at him oddly. 'What?'

Clarke seemed flustered and shook her head. 'Oh, nothing… sorry.'

Clarke pushed herself up onto her knees, and Bellamy was hard-pressed to look away from where her top had ridden down, baring the tops of her breasts and the gap between them. She hadn't noticed him looking but readjusted her top anyway. She looked around, biting her lip, and Bellamy wondered if maybe she knew exactly what she was doing…

'So,' she said, licking her lips. '…should we get into bed?'

'What?' Bellamy spluttered. He sat straighter, wringing his hands. Clarke giggled.

'I'm tired, is what I mean, and maybe I'll be able to think about Maya a little better in the morning. Plus I don't want to sleep all day; I want to see Wells for a couple of hours before dinner. We have a lot to catch up on…'

'You going to be spending time in his room again?' Bellamy said off-handedly, and a little viciously. He regretted it the moment it came out.

'What's that supposed to mean?' Clarke said bitingly. Her eyes flashed darker than usual.

Bellamy held his hands up. He knew he should apologize, but the stupid damn nagging feeling in his stomach wouldn't permit him to get the words out. _Fine._ He didn't like the idea that Clarke had spent time in Wells' room. For someone she claimed she wasn't interested in in romantically, sure seemed to want to see him a lot.

'Like I said, Wells is my friend.'

'You're the one who said you spent most of your time in his room.'

Clarke scoffed, ready to hit back with something, but then she stopped with a look that made Bellamy feel like she could see into his very soul. It pierced him and kept him still. Clarke narrowed her eyes.

'Are you jealous?'

And just like that, the floodgates broke.

'Don't be ridiculous.'

Bellamy swept up from the bed with all the grace of a buffalo. He grabbed his bag and started pulling out some pyjama trousers.

'For some who's not jealous,' Clarke said, coming up behind him, 'You're acting kind of jealous.'

'Jealousy would imply real feelings,' he said sharply.

When he turned around, she was standing right in front of him. Closer than they'd been in the car, closer than when they'd arrived, closer still than in the closet full of her art… he could feel her breath on his collarbone, but her eyes were fixed on his lips. Their breathing was unsteady and hot.

Bellamy brushed past her and went to the bathroom to change.

When he came back, Clarke was already in bed and she'd arranged his for him on the floor. She was wrapped up in her bath robe under the covers and, despite holding her cocoa in her hands as she leaned against the headboard, she still looked freezing cold. Bellamy could see her shivering a little. Even though they lived in Chicago, they weren't immune to the cold, and he had expected it to be warmer in Connecticut. Either way, here they were, and if Clarke was cold in bed, Bellamy could only imagine how he was going to feel on the floor.

'It's freezing,' she muttered, and Bellamy nodded.

He picked up a couple of the blankets intended for him and draped them over her. She looked at him in such a way that it gave him pause. Sometimes, he remembered, he used to see her with her friends, laughing and smiling and looking at them like they hung the moon. Once, a long time ago, he'd wished she'd look at him that way. He was lonely, sad, after a fight with Octavia and he just wanted someone. And there she'd been. All blonde hair and blue eyes and a smile so bright it lit up the room…

And ever since, Bellamy knew that one day he was going to be a goner. Turns out that day had come.

'How will you sleep?' Clarke asked as he turned away.

'I've slept on worse,' he said quietly, not meeting her eye.

He didn't want to see the pity, or empathy or whatever the hell he knew she was feeling. Octavia didn't keep secrets from them. Clarke knew all about their lives growing up, even the darkest parts that Bellamy kept hidden from the world. A few moments passed, with Bellamy keeping his back to her, trying to figure out if he should wait until she was asleep before he took his t-shirt off. He didn't want her to feel uncomfortable, but he couldn't sleep in it. Even when he was freezing.

He'd wake up in cold sweats most nights, with the image of his mother on the floor seared into his brain, flashing in his dreams. It was easier without the t-shirt.

'Bellamy?' Clarke said, and he looked at her.

'Yeah?'

'You can sleep here if you want to,' she said, patting the space beside her.

He looked at her hand and swallowed. He'd be lying if he said he'd rather sleep on the floor, quite frankly, and he didn't mind sharing. But it was her call, and she seemed to have made it. She smiled in a welcoming way and turned over to get the light on her bedside table. When she clicked it off, Bellamy savoured the moment. _God_, he was tired.

'Are you sure?' he asked then.

'Yes,' she said, without hesitation, and so he accepted the invite and happily got in beside her.

Their feet touched under the duvet and they both hissed at the cold, but Clarke giggled and Bellamy felt the vibrations reach him through the mattress. He looked at the back of her head as he settled on the pillow. He had to say, this was the comfiest bed he'd slept in for a while. Back home he needed a new mattress, but one of the payments for Octavia's textbooks was coming up so he was going to wait a while longer.

Clarke was breathing softly beside him not long later.

He was surprised by how much she affected him, and it was such a strange thing to accept. He always thought she was annoying, so _high and mighty and proud and has to be right all the damn time_. Just like him, Octavia would say. He'd have to call her in the morning and apologize, if she didn't call first. When she asked if he was okay, he would say yes, I'm perfectly fine, and I'm being well looked after.

Clarke sighed in her sleep and shifted round. She was facing him now, eyes closed, lips pursing a little. Out like a light, and never more beautiful. Bellamy looked up at the ceiling.

Convincing her parents he loved her wasn't going to be the problem. Convincing himself he wasn't already falling hard would be.

* * *

><p>When Clarke woke up the following morning, she found her robe discarded on the floor beside her. The blankets were pushed back, her pyjama top had ridden down and her trousers were all twisted. She could see her window pane was thick with snow and that it was still falling. The familiar hustle and bustle of her parents could be heard downstairs, but that didn't bring a smile to her lips. What did, however, was the fact that Bellamy was lying next to her, eyes closed in peace, and his arm was draped across her hip. He was radiating heat, in more ways than one. His top half was bare; he only wore pyjama trousers to bed. His chest was chiselled nicely; he had that sort of build.<p>

Clarke could see the imprint of where her body had been before she'd woken up; tucked in to his side, likely with her arm over him too. Funnily enough, she wished a little that she could go back to sleep just to relive it. That's when he started to stir. Clarke started to move back over to her own side, but his grip on her tightened suddenly. She looked round at him; his eyes were still closed. He was probably dreaming. Still, she was starving, and as warm as he and the bed were, she could smell her father's pancakes. She checked the clock – half past one in the afternoon.

Clarke prized his arm away from her and he rolled over onto his stomach, arms sliding under the pillows. She wouldn't wake him just yet.

By the time Clarke reached the kitchen, Wells and Maya were already in there eating. Her father was at the stove, and she stopped on her way in to give him a squeeze. Her mother came over with a cup of coffee, which Clarke thanked her for immensely, before taking her seat opposite Wells. Thelonious looked at her over his paper briefly and smiled, then went back to the news.

'How'd you sleep?' Clarke asked Wells and Maya, who looked to be avoiding Clarke's gaze.

Clarke's mind went quickly back to her conversation with Bellamy; maybe Maya did want a second chance. Then images of Bellamy in bed flooded her mind, all shirtless and chiselled and G_od dammit_, now she was flushing.

'Fine, thank you,' said Maya, digging in to her strawberries. 'You?'

Clarke was grateful for the distraction and she smiled at Maya, who looked surprised. 'Great. Bellamy's still out.'

'I don't blame him,' said Wells, offering Clarke some orange juice. 'Was your journey okay?'

'It was…' Clarke began. She trailed off as Bellamy emerged then. He looked a little dishevelled in his plaid shirt as he made his way over, stopping to kiss her mother on the cheek and to say thank you for having him on short notice. Abby was taken much by surprise, but recovered nicely and patted his shoulder. They started laughing about something together, and Clarke's father soon joined them.

'Clarke?'

'It was perfect,' she said, turning back to Wells.

She started piling pancakes onto both her plate and the one next to her, reserved for Bellamy. She added bacon and syrup to her own, and strawberries and blueberries and bananas to Bellamy's. He liked fruit. He eventually made his way over, touching Clarke's shoulder as he sat down. He devoured his pancakes and berries and asked if he could serve himself some more.

'Of course,' said Jake. 'I'm making enough for a hundred people I think…'

Abby kissed her husband on the cheek. Clarke watched her parents; she always forgot just how much she missed being around them. So many of her friend's parents were divorced or not around anymore, and hers were still as happy as the day they were married. That was what she wanted one day. Bellamy sat back, blocking her view, and rested his arm on the back of her chair. As she went back to her food and he started discussing Wells' degree with him, Clarke felt him playing with the ends of her hair.

She liked it.

When her parents had joined the rest of them at the big round table, they chatted happily about idle things; the weather, the decorations – some of which still had to go up – and even about Bellamy's sports teams. He wasn't so much into them as much as he was his history, Clarke had noted a while back.

'There's a few local games coming up,' said Jake. 'You and I should head out to one together. They start at the end of January.'

'I'll have to make sure I can get away from work,' said Bellamy with a smile. 'I already used my vacation days for the year and they don't renew until March.'

'No problem,' said Jake with a warm smile. 'We'll figure something out.'

Thelonious had put away his paper. He was leaning over the table with his hands clasped in front of him. 'So, Bellamy, what do you do?'

Wells shot his father a pointed look, and Clarke had to say she didn't like his tone either. But Bellamy took it in his stride.

'Right now I'm working three jobs,' he said easily, as if he'd said he was a millionaire. 'I tend bar at night in this place called the Ark with my friend Wick, and then my days are split between working in Clarke's favourite book store,' Clarke blushed, 'and working as a teaching aide at the university.'

'Is that what you want to do? Teach?' Abby asked hopefully. Clarke clenched her jaw.

Bellamy nodded. 'Maybe one day. A history lecturer. I'd need an MA first though, and Octavia's still got a year of school left so there's a lot to pay for.'

'Well surely your parents help with that,' Thelonious said.

Clarke saw Bellamy's fist clench in his lap. He looked at his hands. She reached over and took his in her own, placing it on the table.

'My father left right before O was born. Haven't heard from him since so I doubt I'm going to wake up to a cheque in the mail one day.'

Clarke looked at Thelonious across the table, and she knew what was coming next. She squeezed Bellamy's hand again.

'Your mother then?' he said. Wells shook his head at his father, who didn't realize his mistake.

Bellamy said nothing at this. Clarke knew about his nightmares; she'd found Octavia on the phone in the middle of the night once, trying to calm him down. Clarke had talked her through easing a panic attack as best she could without giving away that she was there. She knew Bellamy was too proud. When he still hadn't spoken, Clarke took it upon herself.

'Bellamy and Octavia's mother passed away a few years ago. It's just the two of them,' she said. She turned to Bellamy. 'And Octavia's lucky to have a brother like Bellamy.'

'I'm sorry,' said Thelonious sincerely, but Bellamy waved him off.

An uncomfortable silence befell them all, but Maya quickly struck up a conversation with Thelonious about Wells' summer internship the following year. Clarke was thankful.

'Well,' said Abby and Jake together.

'I'll make more food,' her father offered.

'And I'll get coffee,' said Abby.

'Make mine Irish,' said Bellamy teasingly, and Clarke worried her mother would disapprove.

But she smiled at him with the warmest, most motherly look Clarke had ever seen and, this time, it was Bellamy who squeezed Clarke's hand. It said _I needed that_. It said _thank you_ and it might have said something else if not for the knock on the front door.

'We'll get it,' said Clarke, rising and pulling Bellamy with her.

When they were safely in the hallway and away from a certain overbearing Jaha, Clarke put her face in her hands.

'I'm so sorry about that. I should have told them; I mean my parents know about yours because of Octavia, but I didn't think about Thelonious and he's got such a big mouth –'

'He'd make a good politician,' said Bellamy, rolling his eyes. Clarke was still talking.

'- and really I just should have told him to shut up. That was so inappropriate. I promise, next time we visit family, it won't happen again-'

'Next time, huh?' Bellamy said, raising his eyebrows.

Clarke stopped, a blush creeping into her cheeks. Fake dating Blake was really starting to get away from her... She opened her mouth to speak, her lips curving into a smile, but the person at the door knocked again and Clarke remembered she'd gone out to open it. Bellamy waited further back as Clarke turned the knob.

'Any later and I'd be a popsicle.'

Raven looked in on them from the porch, one eyebrow up. She laughed then and threw her arms around Clarke, who did so in equal measure. They closed the door behind them, after Bellamy had complained about the draft.

'Hey Blake,' said Raven, smirking. 'Fancy meeting you here.'

'Raven,' he said politely.

She clapped him on the shoulder in passing, before being engulfed by Abby.

'Raven, is everything okay?'

'How did you get here?' Jake asked, rubbing her back.

'Got a greyhound last minute, then hitched a ride from town.'

'You should have called,' said Jake, leading them all back into the kitchen. 'I would have come to get you.'

'Never mind,' said Raven, hugging Wells and waving at Maya and Thelonious. 'I'm here now and I'm starving.'

Bellamy moved his plate for Raven to sit down. Everyone began eating again, stuffing themselves like turkeys, when Bellamy's cell rang and he left the room for a minute. Clarke leaned in to Raven.

'Is everything okay?' she whispered.

'Later. We have a lot to catch up on,' said Raven quietly, winking. 'Could you get me some milk?'

Clarke nodded and went off to the refrigerator. From there, she could hear Bellamy in the other room. He was talking to Octavia it seemed. _Finally_, thought Clarke.

'Yeah, I'm okay. How's Washington?'

Clarke knew she shouldn't listen in. But she was just a concerned fake girlfriend; what else was she supposed to do?

'You knew about the plan to kidnap me?' he said, and Clarke snorted. The others didn't notice.

'Yeah, I'm fine. Really. Everything's fine. I'm…' he turned then, and Clarke only just managed to duck out of the way. She opened the refrigerator door and located the milk and, in doing so, missed the grin he'd sent her way.

'Everything's perfect,' he said, before promising to call his sister later.

When he came back in, he met Clarke as she closed the fridge door.

'You're nosy, you know that?' he said.

Clarke shrugged and led him back to the table. 'I'm just concerned about my boyfriend.'

Raven laughed loudly, causing everyone surprise, and Bellamy and Clarke struggled to hide their own laughter. By now though, they were pros at keeping things to themselves.

Bellamy kissed Clarke on the temple and nobody, including the two of them, thought anything of it.


	6. Six

**A/N: **Hey guys! So there's not a lot of action in this chapter, per say, but there are some developments in the Bellamy and Clarke relationship! Hope you like it! Please leave me some feedback x

Onward!

* * *

><p><strong>SIX<strong>

'So you and Bellamy huh?'

Raven was smirking at Clarke across the breakfast bar. She'd been with the Griffins and Bellamy and the rest of the crew for almost two days now, and unluckily this was the only time Raven had managed to corner Clarke alone to interrogate her about the thoroughly _what-the-fuck_ plan her best friend had going on. If anyone knew Clarke, it was Raven and if anyone knew anything at all about Clarke's relationship with Bellamy, it was Raven. And yet here she was, last to know that Clarke had dragged the Blake brother home for the holidays under the pretence that they were dating and in love!

Raven snorted.

'What?' Clarke admonished, throwing a chip at her.

'Oh come on,' said Raven, glancing through to the hall to be sure they were alone in the kitchen. 'It's _ridiculous_!'

'I mean it's…' Clarke stumbled, avoiding Raven's gaze. Raven smirked. 'It's not _that_ ridiculous.'

Raven chuckled knowingly and rounded the breakfast bar. She propped her arm around Clarke's shoulder and felt her friend tense a little. Raven patted her shoulder and then whispered,

'You like him.'

Clarke looked round, indignant and mouth agape, and then furiously shook her head.

'I don't.'

'You do, honey.' Raven wiggled her eyebrows. 'Bad.'

Clarke tried to remain stoic, stubborn in her belief that she didn't like the guy, but Raven had seen it already. Barely two days and already there were looks, smiles, whispers and more than much else there were little touches here and there; his hand on the small of her back, her fingers grazing his arm or her arm around his waist. For two people faking a relationship, they sure looked like they weren't. Raven smiled at Clarke, her mind wandering for a moment to her own personal life and that _damn_ bartender she was struggling to shake. It wasn't her fault, obviously. He was handsome as hell and that stupid smile on his face and biting his lip and his hand all over her body –

'Raven?' Clarke waved her hand in front of her face.

'Sorry,' said Raven, looking towards the ground. 'I was just thinking, again, about how silly the whole Bellamy thing is.'

'Liar.' Clarke had one eyebrow raised. 'The thought of Bellamy has never made you breathe like that.'

'Not recently…' said Raven, and she was only half-joking. If Clarke found out now she'd probably feel weird about it. As expected, Clarke was looking at her a little oddly. 'Just kidding,' lied Raven with a grin.

'So who's the guy?' Clarke said suddenly, as if Bellamy and Raven hadn't even touched upon her thoughts.

She leaned on her elbows on the counter and peered up at Raven. Just then, the door creaked open a little and Bellamy emerged, looking somewhat worse for wear after what Raven could only imagine was light-hearted interrogation about his hopes and dreams and, furthermore, his intentions with Clarke. Jake was a big soft pushover, but he was a father and a husband before anything else and even with someone like Bellamy, who had good intentions with everyone – despite how much of a pain in the ass he was – Jake was protective.

Raven ached for someone to feel that way about her, deep down. She had to build and defend her own walls and now, even with people with Clarke who would stand right beside and in front of her, Raven still felt like she had to go it alone. Not every day, but most days. Ever since she was a kid and her parents stopped coming home. Routine was hard to break, especially when it was bred in disappointment.

She watched Bellamy and Clarke with muted curiosity. He moved right over to her after coming through the door, stopping to mutter something quietly just between the two of them. She nodded and he brushed passed her, one hand going to either side of her waist from behind so he could pass by and get to the refrigerator. Clarke's eyes followed him all the way. He retrieved three bottles of beer and offered each of them one, which they accepted. He pulled the tops off them all and then clinked the bottles together, before leaning gently on the cupboards in front of them.

'So you know,' Bellamy said.

Raven nodded. 'Yup.'

'What'd my dad want?' Clarke asked, sipping her drink. Raven observed her; she looked a little nervous.

'Standard guy stuff, actually. More sports, some TV and films. The occasional slip of the tongue about me and you, but to be honest I think your mom put him up to it,' he said, smirking at her over the neck of his bottle. Clarke was nodding along, looking at like he was made of stars.

Raven could barely handle it much longer.

'I slept with him,' she blurted out, eyes darting between the two of them and then at the ground. Bellamy all but spat his drink at her; the urgency in his eyes suggested she'd just ruined something very important. Clarke looked confused.

'Wick,' Raven admitted. 'I slept with Wick.'

'You slept with Wick?' Bellamy repeated. He looked relieved.

'Who's Wick?' Clarke asked.

'Yeah, before I left,' said Raven with a shrug. That felt good.

'I didn't even know you knew Wick.' Bellamy gravitated towards Clarke, who was looking between them.

'Who's Wick?' she asked again, growing ever-more impatient.

'He bartends with me at the Ark,' said Bellamy, gulping another sip of his beer. He rested his hand on the counter behind Clarke; Raven could barely contain a remark about how they just seemed to fit together that way. 'We're friends.'

'Why is it a big deal?' Raven asked.

'You're the one who blurted it out,' said Clarke, half-laughing. She wiggled her eyebrows. 'Is he hot?'

Bellamy nudged Clarke gently in the back and she looked up at him, biting her lip.

'Oh yeah,' said Raven.

'Do you like him? Bellamy asked, trying to suss her out.

Raven shook her head. 'Doesn't matter. I'm done with relationships.' She looked at Clarke, who quickly looked down. It was true. Finn had pretty much ruined her faith in men, and she was interested in going down that route again.

'Was it good?' Clarke asked then, smirking.

'I'm right here,' said Bellamy and Clarke tapped his shoulder apologetically.

'You guys know you're not really a thing, right?' Raven checked, pointing a finger between them. They untangled their gazes long enough to look at her like she was crazy.

'Of course,' said Clarke, stepping lightly away from him.

Bellamy scratched the back of his neck. 'I don't even like her,' he said. Clarke rounded on him with her eyebrows raised high. 'I mean I like you… but I don't _like_ you like you, I mean maybe – why, you like me?' he turned her own look on her, and Clarke stuttered much like he had.

'I don't- I mean, look it's like this… I-'

'This is painful,' said Raven, holding up a hand. 'Please stop.' She grabbed her beer and swaggered towards the door. 'I'm going to talk to Wells about Wick while the two of you act like six year-olds in love.'

She grinned, pulling the door closed. 'Just no hair pulling. Save that for the bedroom!'

'Raven!'

Clarke's shrill cry was quieted by the door closing, and Raven left them in relative silence.

* * *

><p>'Clarke we can't get a dog,' said Bellamy as they walked ahead of Wells and Maya. They'd invited the two of them for a stroll around the neighbourhood while Raven helped Jake fix his computer.<p>

'I work three jobs right now; I'm barely ever in my apartment, and you're going to be a doctor. It's just not feasible.'

'Obviously not right now,' she replied, drawling a little.

'I know,' said Clarke grumpily. 'I just always wanted one.'

He turned to her with a quirked eyebrow, and she to him with a half-hearted shrug. Her parents had such busy careers, and had done since she was a young girl, so it never left much room for even a sibling, let alone a pet. She'd had goldfish or two, but it was always so sad when they died. Given their life expectancy, she shouldn't be surprised. But Clarke had always been an innocent person, she liked to think, and so it was rare that she ever expected the worst. She was an optimist. Beside her, Bellamy was the opposite and she knew that very well. He was often her foil. Lately she didn't mind so much.

They came to a particularly icy patch of sidewalk, and Clarke reached out for Bellamy's hand as to steady them both. He took it without hesitation. She went first and guided him gently across it, and when they were back in side by side step, neither of them let go. Clarke breathed in from behind her scarf, happy that the chill wasn't seeping through the thick wool.

'Maybe one day,' Bellamy mused, giving her an encouraging smile. Clarke pushed out her bottom lip and he laughed, looking back ahead. 'I'm not getting you a dog.'

Clarke felt the oddest sensation in her stomach then; fluttering, coupled with a kind of warmth that snaked up to her chest and through her arms. She felt it most in the back of her neck and had to look away for fear of blushing bright red. Bellamy's gaze was fixed on the way ahead, thankfully, but Clarke now found hers glued to him. He looked really quite lovely in his coat and scarf; it had threads of grey and black and a sunset orange, and with his grey coat and his mop of black hair, flaked with snowflakes and a little bit wet – well Clarke thought he looked pretty damn good. She wondered why she'd never taken notice before…

'Clarke?'

Wells and Maya had caught up to them, and Wells was offering her his arm. She smiled graciously and let go of Bellamy's hand, though begrudgingly, and she and Wells hung back as Bellamy and Maya carried on, talking quietly about the icy path. Bellamy glanced over his shoulder briefly and Clarke met his gaze, but Maya soon had his attention again and Clarke fell into step beside Wells.

'I've missed you the last couple of months,' he said, and Clarke grinned, leaning her head on his shoulder and squeezing his arm. 'A lot has happened.'

'Apparently,' Clarke sniped, eyes locked on the back of Maya's head. Something she said made Bellamy laugh loudly, and Clarke's stomach clenched.

'Easy Clarke. You look at her any harder and you'll burn through her head.'

'Shut up!' Clarke slapped him on the arm and he chuckled.

She appreciated him for a second; it had been so long since they'd seen each other. She slipped his arm through his and they carried on.

'So, how did that happen?' she nodded in Maya's direction.

'You're one to talk,' Wells countered, eyeing Bellamy as he rubbed Maya's arm to warm her up. 'Little touchy isn't he?' he joked, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

'Little jealous, are you?'

Wells shrugged. 'Not really. I think I'm safe.'

'Oh yeah?' Clarke smirked.

'Yeah. I've seen the way he looks at you. He's in deep.'

Clarke's smirk fell a little and she turned her eyes forward. Bellamy and Maya had proceeded in making snowballs and were casually throwing a few at each other. Maya looked back, eyes alight with mischief, and she aimed one at Wells' chest. It hit him nearer his waist and his mouth fell open. Maya giggled, and Wells started making his own ammunition. Clarke was still busy with Bellamy, who had one eyebrow raised and was looking at her like she was an easy target.

'Never thought I'd see the day you hooked up with Blake,' Wells said from beside her. 'But you seem happy.'

Clarke looked up at him with a firm nod. 'I am.'

He was about to speak again, when Maya's second snowball hit him on the cheek. Clarke couldn't stop the laughter as it overcame her, and while Wells took off after his girlfriend, armed with snow aplenty, Clarke was oblivious to the snowball headed for her. Bellamy's aim was pretty good – he'd played basketball in school, after all, and so it hit Clarke directly in the side of the head.

'Hey!' she cried, stumbling a little.

She touched her head; it was throbbing. There'd been a chunk of ice in the snowball, and it hurt. She knelt briefly and placed a hand on the ground. Bellamy rushed over to her as quickly as he could, given the slippery space between them. He reached her, completely concerned. He helped her to her feet.

'Are you okay?' he asked quietly, touching the side of her head gingerly with his fingertips. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean –'

He was cut off when Clarke smashed a handful of snow into his face. It slid off when she took her hand away, and Bellamy opened his eyes slowly. He licked his lips, and then brushed the rest of the snow off his face with his hand. He looked at his palm determinedly. Clarke bit her lip, suppressing a giggle, and his face softened.

'You just started a war, princess,' he said, turning his gaze on hers. Clarke reached up to wipe the last bit of snow off his lips with her thumb. He leaned in. 'Hope you know how to end it.'

With that, he picked her up over his shoulder and carried her over to a big, undisturbed mound of snow. He dumped her on her back and she laughed loudly. It was a cushy landing, after all. Bellamy stood up straight, admiring his handy work, but when he tried to back off he slipped. A moment later he was on top of her, struggling to get back up.

He'd knocked the wind out of her, but Clarke didn't mind one bit. He pushed himself up on his hands and all of a sudden his face was right over hers with that stupid, apologetic grin plastered on it. Clarke blew some hair out of her eyes, and the breath went up to his fringe and ruffled the ends that fell over his eyes. He readjusted, taking some weight off her and placing his hand up near her head. Clarke suddenly missed his warmth, and the feeling of him pressing on her. She licked her lips.

'Now what?' he asked. It came out in a whisper.

'Guys!' Wells' voice suddenly broke through their reverie. 'This is a family neighbourhood!'

Clarke could hear the laughter in his tone, and Maya's for that matter. Bellamy glanced up at them and shook his head. Soon his eyes were on her again, and he was a little closer than he had been before.

'Well,' he began, easing off her. He climbed to his feet, and then offered her a hand.

Clarke tried to remember the last time she'd felt that disappointed.

'Back to the house?' he proposed, and she nodded.

He was distant on the way back. The space between them hadn't been that big since before they'd made the journey home. Clarke tried to convince herself that she didn't mind, or that she didn't wish he was holding her hand again. But she minded. Oh boy,_ she minded._

* * *

><p>'Sweetheart, can I talk to you for a second?'<p>

Bellamy touched the small of Clarke's back after he'd slipped into the kitchen. She'd been helping her father pick out a bottle of wine for the evening. She looked up at him, surprised, but nodded and excused herself. Bellamy smiled politely at her father before she followed him out of the room. He led her to the living room, making a point of checking whether or not it was empty, and then closed the door behind them.

'What's the matter?'

His hands went to his hips. 'We don't have gifts for each other.'

He watched the pieces slip into place, and then she gawped at him. 'Crap.'

'Wells was just telling me what he's got for Maya; a crazy expensive watch or something, and then he asked me what I had for you.'

'What did you tell him?'

'Nothing. I said I had to go to the bathroom, but that's beside the point. What's the plan here?'

She deliberated peacefully for a minute. He watched her eyes crinkle at the edges as she thought it over, and sure as anything she started twisting the ends of her hair around her fingers a second later. If it weren't for the urgency of the situation – and Bellamy was kicking himself for getting dragged into something that made_ this_ an urgent situation – Bellamy would let himself watch her. Just watch her, appreciate her, even maybe lo-

'We could say we decided not to get gifts for each other.'

'Okay,' he said, nodding. 'Maybe we're going to Paris next year and it's expensive, so that's our mutual gift to each other?'

'Paris huh? That was quick.'

'It's on my list. I've always wanted to go,' Bellamy said, a glint in his eye.

'Too bad we're not,' Clarke said in reply, and it came out very quickly, and then she did something he wasn't expecting.

Clarke shrugged, her eyebrows rising a little suggestively, and she stepped in to him. Bellamy felt like something had taken flight in his stomach. The thing is, this _thing_ they were in was developing and had been right from the moment he'd agreed to come home with her. While it seemed to be fooling the rest of them, Bellamy hadn't really considered how he might be fooling himself too and, now that she was standing in front of him and they were alone and she looked so… well, she looked ordinary, and to Bellamy that was just _stunning_.

Clarke raised her hands a little, up to his waist, but she stopped short of resting them on his hips. His skin was already prickling at the thought of her touch, so when she started to draw back he took matters into his own hands. Gently grasping her wrists, he pulled her back in. She looked up him, unsure, but she didn't back away.

She placed her hands on his stomach, over his t-shirt, and he took his own away from her wrists. It was the oddest feeling, having Clarke so freely touching him. He looked for her eyes, but she was focused on his stomach, moving her hands slowly upwards, to his chest. Then they went down again, playing with the hem of his top and catching him by surprise. Suddenly there wasn't so much blood in his head. Clarke bit her lip, and then her hands went under his t-shirt. She was methodical, taking in every bump, every ab – of which there were numerous, and he was proud of them – and every inch of him.

'You plan on doing that all afternoon or-'

He was cut off as Clarke leapt onto him, kissing him hard on the mouth and weaving her arms around his neck. He was caught off guard, to say the least, eyes still open, but quickly composed himself and wrapped his arms around her waist. His senses were on fire; everything was Clarke. In between kisses he attempted to speak, but she bit his lower lip and he succumbed. His hands roamed her back, her waist and they were on their way down to her ass when she started trying to rip his shirt off.

'Clarke –' He just managed to pull away, panting, and leaned their foreheads together. 'As much as I'm enjoying this,' she looked up at him with hooded eyes. Her lips were a little swollen too. 'I don't really think I want to be shirtless in your living room.'

She giggled, taking a step back and covering her face with her hands. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't apologize,' Bellamy said, straightening his top. 'I want-'

The door creaked and they looked round as Raven stopped in the threshold with a knowing look. 'Your mom said dinner's ready in fifteen.'

She left, and Clarke was about to follow when Bellamy grabbed her by the arm and spun her back around. Before she could speak he kissed her again. He was much gentler with her than before, and this time there weren't a few desperate kisses, trying to reach every part of each other. There was just the one, soft and tender, and when they stepped back Clarke's eyes fluttered open and lit up.

Bellamy winked, murmuring against her lips. 'Paris.'

He let her go and Clarke made for the door. 'Paris,' she affirmed.

Bellamy waited back after she'd gone, touching his lips softly. He laughed at himself then, ran his hand over his mouth and went after her to dinner.

He wasn't pretending anymore. He just hoped to God she wasn't either.


	7. Seven

**A/N:** Raise your hand if you have ever felt absolutely devastated after watching an episode of the 100. The mid-season finale completely destroyed me. I won't say what happened, because I know not everyone will have seen it yet, but it was a rollercoaster and it hurt so, so much.

There a quite a lot of people following, favouriting and reviewing this story, and so I thought I'd try and help you through the aftermath of Spacewalker with this update. Hopefully it cheers at least one of you up! Remember when I said I wanted to finish this by Christmas? Ha! It's since taken on a life of its own so it's going to go after Christmas. Not too sure how many chapters are left after this one, but it's likely 3-4!

Alright, shall we? X

* * *

><p><strong>SEVEN<strong>

Everyone, including Clarke, had gone up to bed a couple of hours earlier. They were all full from dinner, which had been a gorgeous Bolognese that Jake had outdone himself with. Raven was absolutely stuffed, practically splitting at the sides and while she was in a little pain, it was the good kind of pain. She was lazing on the couch, legs up and eyes closed, relishing the evening. The door creaked and she peered up, one eye open; Bellamy was in the doorway, waiting to be invited in. Raven gestured for him to join her, and he slipped silently into the room. She scrunched up on the couch, legs crossed underneath her, and waited for him to speak.

He sat down beside her.

'We need to talk about it.'

Raven pursed her lips. 'I thought we said we'd never talk about it.'

He was bent over where he sat, leaning on his knees, wringing his hands. 'Things are different now.'

Raven smirked. 'You mean Clarke.'

She scooted a little closer and touched his shoulder. He responded to it, turning his head to her, but he didn't smile. He simply nodded and Raven withdrew her hand, folding it into the other between her crossed legs. She shrugged, because really she wasn't too sure where he was going with all this. Raven hadn't told Clarke yet, or Octavia – _God_, Octavia would be a nightmare if she found out. But Clarke… Raven had always suspected that Clarke would be fine about it, that she'd be cool. Although now she was doubting herself, and Raven wondered if it meant more than it should; that the idea of telling Clarke what happened with Bellamy all those months ago was suddenly so important, she'd risk Clarke's disappointment. Raven bristled at the thought.

'It's not her business,' Raven said, keeping her voice low. Bellamy frowned.

'Of course it is.'

'Why? Because you're her boyfriend now? You weren't at the time, obviously. You didn't even like her then, and she hated you.'

Bellamy sat back with a sigh. 'I'm not her boyfriend.'

'And don't you just loathe it?' Raven said, biting her lip to hide a grin. Bellamy looked at her. It was rough, at first, but his eyes softened first and he nodded. Raven chuckled. 'You're as good as.'

'It's not real.'

'Then make it real,' Raven said simply. Her phone buzzed in her pocked. 'Just leave me out of it. Hello?'

'Raven, are you okay?'

Raven froze as she always did whenever she heard his voice on the other end of the line. More than ten years they'd been friends, and so much had happened between them and around them and to them and yet, here they were; awkward, still half in love and hundreds of miles apart. Raven cleared her throat and shook her head at Bellamy, who had perked up upon seeing her so uncomfortable.

'Finn,' Raven said simply, and she watched Bellamy's shoulders tense at the name. 'What's up?'

'I've been trying to call you. Are you alright?'

'I'm fine, why?' Her mind went immediately to the last time he'd called her this way. 'What's happened?'

He took a minute to reply, and Raven could just see him twiddling his thumbs on the other side of the phone, all the way back in freezing Chicago. He sighed. 'Raven…'

'Not again.' She closed her eyes and bent over, leaning against the back of the couch.

'My uncle brought your mother in again last night. She was wasted and with a couple of men in the park and now she's in Chicago med –'

'Stop.'

'They're talking about rehab and jail, Raven, but everything's under your name-'

'Stop, please.'

'Is everything –' Bellamy began, but Raven stopped him with a finger in the air.

'Are you at the Griffin's?' Finn asked. Raven nodded, even though he couldn't see her. He seemed to know anyway. 'I'm coming to get you.'

'No, you shouldn't come here –'

'Raven, this isn't about me, or me and Clarke or even me and you. This is about you and your mom. Sit tight, I'm leaving right now.'

He'd already clicked off the phone by the time Raven whispered an okay. She dropped her cell phone onto the couch and tried to muster some words to throw Bellamy off the scent, but nothing came to mind and she had to admit that the look on his face said something along the lines of tell-me-because-I-really-want-to-help. Raven opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the words just didn't come out. She rose from the couch and instead muttered something about going to bed.

'Are you going up?'

Bellamy looked concerned but shook his head. 'I'm not sure me and Clarke in the same room is a good idea right now.'

'Why?'

'Things are complicated.'

Raven rolled her eyes and made for the door. 'Actually, they're simple. I'll get you some things to sleep on for tonight. Tomorrow, just tell her how you feel. Either that, or kiss the hell out of her.' Raven smirked. 'Again.'

She left him to ponder that, and only when she was safely alone in the hallway did Raven let her face fall. Her eyes clouded a little, tinged with tears that she refused to let fall. Not for that woman; not again. All her mother did was cause her pain, time and again. Maybe it really was time she just got rid of her, one way or the other. But the idea made Raven's heart ache; her worst fear was loneliness. Being left _behind_. Deep down, she just wanted someone to love her. It was one of the reasons she couldn't ever let Finn go; he was family, and always would be. Clarke was too, but she had her parents and now she had Bellamy, who was so ridiculously in love with her that Raven couldn't understand why neither of them could see it. She craved that.

She just wanted to be wanted.

When she took Bellamy back some blankets, he held her phone out to her. There was a number on the screen, waiting to be saved.

'Wick,' Bellamy said with kind eyes. 'He's a good listener and he'll kick my ass for this… but he likes you.'

Raven took the phone and stared at the number. _Wick, huh?_ She flipped the phone closed and slid it into her back pocket.

'Goodnight, Bellamy.'

'Goodnight, Raven.'

* * *

><p>When Clarke woke up the next morning, the first thing she did was look for Bellamy. His usual spot beside her was cold and kept, as though he'd never been there at all. She peered up at his pillow; his pyjama trousers were still in place, folded up just like they had been the night before when she'd gotten into bed. She stopped for a moment – <em>had she been drinking at dinner?<em> She lifted the duvet a little, just to check, and found that she was in fact wearing her own pyjamas. _Okay, there was no sex._ Safe in the notion that there was nothing to forget – because, really, she wanted to be able to _remember Bellamy_ – Clarke slipped out of bed and hissed at the cold morning that greeted her. She fumbled around to find some thick, thermal socks, pulled on her dressing gown, and then went down to breakfast.

As she descended the stairs, passing family picture after family pictures lining the wall, Clarke heard voices starting to filter in from the kitchen. She could smell her father's cooking, and was craving the bacon in particular, as she passed through hallway and to the back of the house. The door to the living room was ajar, and she peeked in briefly to find a few blankets had been folded up on one side of the couch, on top of two pillows. Clarke slowed for a moment, but kept going, and when she saw Bellamy sitting at the breakfast table with Wells, Thelonions and Maya, she realized right away who'd slept downstairs.

His hair was going in all directions but he didn't look well-rested. Clarke smiled a good morning to her parents as she passed them. Bellamy looked up at her and smiled, but it was different than usual. Not quite as full, like something was weighing it down. Clarke felt her stomach plummet as hundreds of scenarios ran through her mind. He'd changed his mind, he didn't like kissing her for real, he had to leave, she kicked him in her sleep… the last one bothered her least.

As she came to the table, she touched the back of his neck and took the seat beside him.

'You didn't come to bed last night.'

He shook his head, plating her up pancakes and bacon. Leaning back in his seat, Clarke half expected him to slide his arm along the back of her chair, and when he didn't Clarke puffed out the air from her cheeks. He was acting weird, and she didn't like it. She didn't turn to her plate like he had; instead, she kept her body turned to him and leaned in a little, dropping her voice.

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing, come on, eat up,' he said, forcing a smile.

He picked up her fork and held it out to her, and begrudgingly Clarke took it and turned to the rest of the people at the table. Wells was watching her with a curious sort of look, like he had a glimmer of thought about what was going on. Raven probably would too, but she was nowhere to be seen just yet. It was only half past nine, Clarke noted when she looked at the clock, and so she wasn't expecting Raven for a good couple of hours yet. When they were home in Chicago, Raven was always on time but she was on vacation now – sort of – so Clarke had to give her a break. She only really minded that her best friend was missing because it meant she had to sit in silence while a few people around her knew exactly what was going on. Raven would excuse them and tell her right away. Wells was more of a wait-until-the-right-moment guy. Clarke wasn't in the mood for that.

'So as I was saying, if you don't mind Bellamy,' Abby said then, coming over and taking the seat opposite him. 'It's just that Jake's back is giving him some issues at the moment; I've told him he needs to start taking things easier at work, but he refuses.'

'I'll take a break when you take a break,' Jake said, touching Abby's shoulder as he sat beside her. She grinned at him.

'Of course, it's not a problem,' Bellamy said, cutting up his second helping of pancakes.

'It should be fun,' said Maya helpfully, and he smiled at her.

'What did I miss?' Clarke asked, settling into her seat. She'd have time to quiz Bellamy later about the way he was acting.

'Bellamy's going to help put up the last of the decorations around the house,' Jake said, handing Clarke the maple syrup. 'I can't stretch without my back hurting today.'

'He's tall so he should get up there pretty easily,' said Abby. 'It's just a couple of decorations to go up on the top of the tree and some things to hang from the ceilings. We couldn't find your father's ladder anywhere – he thinks Raven got hold of it yesterday when she was talking about the satellite dish.'

'Apparently we're not getting access to all the channels we should have,' Jake said with a shrug. Clarke smiled; her parents knew about as much as she did when it came to technology. Raven Reyes was a gift to them all, really.

'So Bellamy graciously stepped in,' said Abby and Clarke raised her eyebrow, but beside her Bellamy laughed. The sound relaxed her and she smiled at him. He looked away.

Clarke felt her face fall and turned back to her breakfast. Had she done something to upset him? She hadn't even spoken to him since the kiss; their first, real kiss and_ God_ how real it had been. She could still taste him on her lips, and she bit them gently to remember. She hadn't been able to get enough of him, and she had to wonder if all those years of resentment, all the years of arguments and stare downs and charged silences and tension… maybe it had been just that. Tension. Maybe Bellamy felt like the tension had drained away, and maybe he didn't feel anything anymore. If he even really had at all.

Clarke put her fork down, about to excuse herself and him, when he stood up abruptly and rubbed his hands together. He was wearing the same clothes he had been the night before. Just then, Raven arrived through the kitchen door. She looked dishevelled, like Bellamy, and when their gazes met they both looked away just as quickly. Clarke narrowed her eyes and looked between them.

'Alright,' said Abby, looking up at Bellamy. 'Want to get started?'

He nodded emphatically and left, leaving Clarke to watch him go. She turned to Wells then, who nodded in the direction of the decking out the back. Clarke went out with him, sharing a smile with Maya as she passed. Maya turned to Raven and the two started discussing whether or not Raven had fixed the TV dish.

Clarke closed the sliding doors behind her and bristled in the cold morning air. The deck chairs were covered in a light smattering of snow, and Clarke looked around to the roof; icicles were hanging down from the edges, hanging over the windows of the upper floor. Wells cleared his throat behind her and Clarke turned around.

'Couldn't have told me inside?' she joked, eyeing her socks. They were getting a little wet.

'Just wanted to catch you alone for a sec,' he said with a smile. 'You doing okay?'

Clarke stuffed her hands into her pockets. 'I was… up until last night.'

'What happened last night?'

'Bellamy kissed me. I kissed him… we kissed.'

Wells furrowed his brows. 'Call me crazy, but I think that's how relationships might work.'

Clarke bit her lip. She was about to come clean to the first person of the holiday, outside of Raven, and there was a small part of her – a really, tiny, miniscule part that she didn't care to admit to – that was worried about it. Normally she wouldn't think twice about telling Wells the truth, but with this, it felt a little like if she told him the truth, then she was admitting it wasn't real. Clarke wasn't okay with that, and just like that she realized there was only one person she needed to talk to.

'You know what?' Clarke said, drawing her lips into a thin line. 'Never mind.'

'Glad I could help?' Wells called, amused, as she went indoors.

She found him in the living room, balancing on the arm of the couch as he pinned some red tinsel in one corner of the room. Her mother was steadying him from the floor, and while she was in a rush, Clarke took a moment after stepping into the room to appreciate the view. He certainly had a lovely physique; muscular, but not overly so, with nice lines. She was partial to a good pair of shoulders, and those he had aplenty. He turned to look at her and before he caught himself, Clarke saw his eyes soften at the sight of her. She pushed on further.

'Mom, could you give us a minute, please?' she said sweetly.

Abby looked between them and then took the rest of the tinsel from Bellamy. 'Of course. Your father and I need to run to the store anyway; he forgot to get some things for Christmas dinner.'

'I can drive you later on,' Bellamy said then, hopping down off the couch and straightening his t-shirt. 'I have some things I need to get; Clarke's lending me the truck.'

'Are you sure? It would be a big help, not having to fuss over moving the cars around.'

He smiled. 'Of course.'

'Great, we'll see you in a little bit,' Abby said with a smile, and then she left.

The door closed behind them with a resounding click, and Bellamy and Clarke seemed to look everywhere by directly at each other. While Bellamy seemed fascinated by his tinsel handiwork, Clarke was preoccupied with the blanket and pillows she knew he'd used that last night. He attempted to climb back up onto the couch arm, but Clarke grabbed the back of his trousers to stop him. He took a step back and away from her, folding his arms.

'What's going on with you?' Clarke began quietly.

'Nothing.'

'You kissed me yesterday,' she said flatly, crossing her arms.

He scoffed, mouth agape as if he was trying to find the words. Eventually he settled for a pointed look and:

'You kissed me first.'

'And then you never came to bed.'

'I didn't think it was a good idea.'

Clarke furrowed her brows. 'You don't want to do this anymore.'

'No,' he said urgently, taking a step closer. 'No, that's not it.'

'Then why didn't you come up last night?' Clarke was struggling to keep up.

'I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable.'

'About what?'

'About me.'

Clarke chuckled. 'Why on earth would I –'

'Because I like you!' he said finally, dropping his arms.

Clarke stared at him. She could tell her face was caught somewhere between surprised and a bit confused, but she wasn't quite sure what to say. She half expected that she herself would be the one saying that; in fact she'd imagined this conversation going a whole other way. Bellamy had her convinced he'd completely changed his mind about the whole ruse and, furthermore, his possible feelings for her. But now here they were, with Clarke at her worst in her years-old dressing gown, worn slippers and hair practically a bird's nest, and he was telling her he _liked _her.

'Please say something.'

His hands were on his hips and his head was hanging a little low, but his eyes were alive with what looked like hope and Clarke felt a warm dam break in her stomach. A smile burst across her face and tiptoed over to him.

'It's a good thing I like you back then, huh?' she said.

It took a minute to sink in, and Bellamy rocked back and forth on his heels momentarily, inwardly debating with himself by the looks of it. Clarke took it upon herself and stepped in to him. But when he moved down to kiss her, smile on his face and twirling a lock of her hair around his finger, Clarke stopped him with a finger on the lips.

'It's probably a good idea you stopped me the other day.'

He drew closer still, so they were almost nose to nose. 'You mean before you tore my shirt off?'

Clarke nodded ever so slightly, the tips of their noses brushing. 'Mhm.'

'And why's that?' he whispered, though it was the only sound Clarke could hear.

'It's probably a good idea for us to wait to have sex.'

'Yeah?' he ghosted his lips of her jaw and up to her ear.

'Because we don't really know where we are with this whole thing,' she said, trying to stay alert. He was being very, very distracting… 'I mean one minute we're pretending, one minute we're not and –'

'Clarke?'

'Hm?'

'Stop talking.'

With a smile on his lips and his hands tangled in her hair, he kissed her.

* * *

><p>'Clarke?'<p>

She turned her head after hearing Raven coming through the patio door. Smiling at her best friend, Clarke gestured her over; she was looking down into the garden, where Wells and Maya were making a snowman. Bellamy was helping, or at least trying to, though he seemed just to be standing around and shouting directions at them. Clarke was smiling behind her big woollen scarf. Bellamy's cell phone rang loudly just then, and when he answered it with a wide smile, Clarke gathered that it was Octavia on the other end. He excused himself from the garden and strolled round to the front of the house.

'I'm leaving later today,' Raven said quietly, coming to stand next to Clarke behind the railings. Clarke turned to her with a hurt look. 'It's nothing, really,' Raven assured her, but Clarke wasn't convinced.

'Your mom?'

Raven looked out at the garden, and the trees that went beyond it. 'I have to go.' She turned to Clarke then, and she looked ashamed. 'Sorry.'

Clarke offered a half smile and touched Raven's arm. 'Don't be silly.'

Raven looked at her, and Clarke would do anything to wipe the shamed look off her face. Raven deserved the whole world and more, and she never believed it once. Raven lowered her head onto Clarke's shoulder, who breathed in the afternoon air. It was chilly, and Clarke could smell the trees. It was a far cry from their Chicago apartment, and while Clarke loved home, there was nothing like walking through the front door in their building and really feeling at peace. Setting eyes on Octavia and Raven in the living room after a long day only helped with that.

'Thank you for being my friend,' Clarke said quietly, squeezing Raven's arm.

Raven responded in kind, wrapping her arm around Clarke's shoulder and fixing her with a look.

'Thanks for never asking me to leave.'

_Never_, Clarke thought. But she knew Raven knew that. She had to by now.

'I wish you were staying for Christmas. It's only two days… but your Mom needs you, and rightly so…'

She trailed off, wondering what she could say to change the subject. Then she wondered how on earth she'd managed to keep it in. Clarke looked for Bellamy, but he was nowhere to be seen. She turned to Raven, ready to tell her about them, about Bellamy and Clarke and Clarke and Bellamy and finally and -

'I slept with Bellamy,' Raven said suddenly, cutting her off.

Clarke looked at her, her excited smile still on her face. 'What?'

Just then, Bellamy came back around the corner.

'Hey Clarke,' he said, his voice very stern.

He wasn't alone.

'Raven,' said the second boy. He then turned his attention to Clarke. She scoffed.

'_Finn_?'


	8. Eight

**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry I didn't get this chapter up on Christmas Eve as I'd planned - the last two days have been very busy, obviously. I hope you all had a great holiday. Thanks for coming back time and again! x

* * *

><p><strong>EIGHT<strong>

If someone had walked up to her and punched her in the stomach, Clarke imagined it would feel very much the same way she was feeling now. Raven wasn't looking at her; her eyes were fixed on the snowy decking beneath their feet. Finn and Bellamy were glaring at each other just off to the side, and all Clarke could do was stare at her best friend who, with four little words, had suddenly crushed Clarke's mood and any joy she'd previously felt with Bellamy close to mind. She managed to tear her eyes away from Raven long enough to look at Bellamy, and he turned to her at just the same moment. Their eyes locked, and Clarke wanted to say something; every word died in her throat, and she resorted to just running away.

She wheeled around and headed for the sliding doors. Once safely inside, she raced up to her bedroom and closed the door. Bellamy was fast behind her, ignoring Finn's warning of 'she probably wants to be alone or something' and Raven's 'Bellamy we really need to talk about Clarke'. He'd almost yanked the door off its hinges by the time he arrived in the room behind her. It closed with a resounding click, and the silence between them this time was the most uncomfortable yet.

Clarke had her back to him.

'Raven told you.'

She didn't turn to look at him right away, but she guessed he had his hands on his hips and that hard look on his face. She crossed her arms and took a deep breath; her shoulders were tense, and she tried to pretend that she didn't want him to massage them, to run his hands over her neck and down her back… She cleared her throat loudly, more for her benefit than anything else. She was too wound up to be thinking about his hands on her.

'Why didn't you?'

'When exactly – Clarke, would you look at me, please?' She obliged, reluctantly, and turned to him with pursed lips. 'When exactly was I supposed to drop that secret? A secret that, by the way, I didn't feel like it was my place to tell.'

'What are you talking about?' she asked, eyes narrowed.

Bellamy glanced up at the ceiling and shrugged. 'Raven and I had sex,' he said, and she flinched at the words. 'But it was a long time ago, and we agreed not to say anything because it didn't matter. It wasn't hurting anyone.'

'If it wasn't hurting anyone, why keep it to yourselves?' Clarke countered, faltering a little when she saw the look on his face. 'Why did you lie about it?'

'I didn't lie. There was just no need to ever bring it up. It had no bearing on my relationship with her, or her relationship with Octavia; or our relationships with you. It was _our_ thing, and it's in the past.'

Clarke knew she was being ridiculous. She knew perfectly well she was over reacting, because Bellamy had only even really been her boyfriend for about a day, and even then she wasn't sure if he even _was_ her boyfriend. They hadn't really talked about it; they'd kissed, really kissed, a couple of times and _God_, he drove her crazy. Her mind was constantly going whenever they were together, there was always something to talk about, always something to think about and truthfully, there weren't many people Clarke would rather be around. He was… he was just Bellamy, and the thought of him being anyone's but hers was _uncomfortable._

'Clarke,' he said gently, and he was suddenly much closer than he had been before. 'What are you thinking?'

She couldn't look at him.

'This is too close to home,' she whispered, and suddenly it wasn't Bellamy in front of her. It was Finn, and Finn in his apartment with Raven on top, half under the sheets, and it was the tears stinging Clarke's eyes and wetting her t-shirt as she ran back to the elevator. It was Finn, all of it, and not Bellamy.

It _wasn't _Bellamy.

'You're not him,' she said quietly, hands falling to her sides. She balled her fists, but relaxed when he traced the tips of his fingers along her forearms.

'No, I'm not.'

Clarke brought her hands up to his stomach. Slowly, she rested them on his abdomen, and then she slid her arms around his waist and nuzzled her face into his collarbone. Bellamy's arms went around her, tightly, and he sighed.

'I'm not good at trust,' she said quietly, and he brought a hand up to cradle her head. 'I'm not. Finn… and Raven – god, she's my_ best_ friend, Bellamy. And I'm not angry I promise, I'm not. It's just… It's like I'm reliving it all.'

'Clarke, I get it,' he stepped back so as to look down at her. 'Finn broke your heart.'

She nodded. 'I'm scared, okay?'

'Okay,' he said, half-smiling. 'I'm scared, too. You were in love with Finn. That's scary to me. But it's all in the past now. We're what's important.'

'I know. You're right.'

'Of course I'm right,' he said, chuckling, and Clarke slapped him lightly on the arm.

'I like you, Bellamy. A lot.' She paused, more for effect than anything else and just to see the look on his face. She bit her lip. 'I want this to work. But we have to be honest with each other. About everything.'

'Yes ma'am, doctor Griffin,' he said, pecking her on the forehead.

'I mean it,' she said, raising her eyebrows. 'So tell me the truth now; have you slept with Monty or Jasper?'

'Yeah. Best night of my life,' he said very seriously.

Clarke laughed and placed her hands either side of his face. He kissed her then, and Clarke was safe in the knowledge that not only did she really, truly like Bellamy Blake, but that he liked her too, and they were just crazy enough to try and make a real relationship work.

'Now,' he managed, in between kisses and lip biting. 'I think you should talk to Raven.'

'Just give me a minute,' Clarke giggled, and she kissed him again.

Her hands wandered under his shirt andshe couldn't really think about anything except _how she desperately wanted to rip it off_ _him. _There was a knock on the door, and Finn's voice ruined the moment.

'Clarke?'

Bellamy pulled away first, though he kept their foreheads together briefly before standing up straight. He adjusted his shirt as he opened the door.

'You have terrible timing, Collins.'

'Sorry about that,' Finn said, and Clarke could tell he didn't mean a word of it. He looked passed Bellamy and to her. 'Can we talk?'

Clarke nodded, first at him and then at Bellamy, who left and closed the door behind him. He hesitated a moment, staring at the back of Finn's head, but Clarke's gaze put him back on track and he left, making a point of touching his lips as he went. Clarke flushed, and after the door was closed, she turned to Finn.

'What's up?'

Finn tilted his head to the side. 'I'm not here for you, alright? I just want you to know that.'

Clarke nodded. 'Raven's mom.'

'It's bad. Really bad this time.'

Clarke watched him. In truth, Finn Collins wasn't a bad boy. He wasn't the kind that intentionally played girls, who dragged them along for the ride just to watch them fall off at the end; Finn cared about people, and he cared about Raven the way Clarke cared about her. She was so important, and she meant so much, and she never once realized it.

'I came to take her home; there's paperwork that she needs to fill out and it's best we keep her mom out of jail, if possible. But she was unconscious when I left so she can't consent to anything and –'

'And that's why Raven needs to go,' Clarke finished for him.

He nodded, lips drawn thin with a grave expression. 'I didn't come here to ruin your Christmas, although I think I've done just that.'

'No,' Clarke said honestly. 'You haven't.'

There was a pause, and Clarke knew they were both thinking the same thing; that her Christmas was going to be just fine because she had Bellamy by her side. Finn looked like there was something on the tip of his tongue, but Clarke didn't push it. Discussing her new relationship with her ex wasn't exactly at the top of her to-do list, and she certainly didn't want to start a conversation with him about it now. He was leaving in the next hour, and when she talked to Finn about everything – because Clarke knew that one day she'd have to – she didn't want to do it under any pressure. She wanted it to be on her own terms, when she was ready. And she wasn't yet.

'You seem happy,' he said, finally, with an encouraging look in his eye. 'I hate that,' he added as an afterthought, but there was a dry humour in his tone that made Clarke chuckle.

'No you don't,' she said, and he laughed too.

'No, I don't.' He smiled at her. 'I want you to be happy.'

'I know,' Clarke said, following him to the door. 'You're a good guy, Finn. You're a terrible boyfriend, but you're a good person, and I'm glad Raven has you in this.'

'She's family,' he said quickly, like it was instinct.

They reached the landing and descended the stairs in silence. Bellamy was waiting at the bottom, playing with something on his phone. It looked like Angry Birds.

'Sorry to gate-crash, man,' Finn said to him.

'Not a problem,' Bellamy said. He didn't look up from his game.

Clarke veered off to the right, heading to where she last saw Raven out back. She was just within earshot when she heard Finn speak.

'Do better than me.'

'I will,' Bellamy said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Clarke smiled and turned for the back door.

* * *

><p>Finn had gone off in search of Clarke's father, though what exactly he could have to talk to Jake about, Bellamy wasn't sure. He watched him go, watched the tension in his shoulders, and the shamed way his head hung, like he was trespassing; like he wasn't welcome. Bellamy knew the Griffins were extremely welcoming, on the contrary, but surely Clarke had told them about Finn and his… indiscretions in the past. Bellamy thought he should feel unwelcome. He'd broken the heart of their only daughter into pieces, and Bellamy was only just starting to mend the cracks. He and Clarke had a long way to go with one another, but he liked the direction they were heading in. Honesty, trust… maybe one day love. Bellamy was pretty sure he was already shoulders deep in that pool, but he didn't want to scare her off.<p>

Just as he had slid his cell into his pocket a moment earlier, he pulled it out again and scanned his contacts. Putting the phone to his ear, Bellamy slipped quietly into the Griffin's office and waited for his sister to answer the phone. The screen lit up and, seconds later, Octavia's excited shrieks filtered through the ear piece.

'Hey Bellamy!'

She sounded unusually excited. Sure, he had a few years on her, but Octavia wasn't_ that_ young and the last time he'd heard her squeal like that was when he overheard her telling Clarke and Raven about her new boyfriend, Lincoln.

'Hey O, you wanna take it down a decibel?' he asked, half-amused.

He leaned back on the desk, nudging a photograph of Clarke. She couldn't have been more than five in the picture. Her blonde hair was curly, sticking out in all directions, and she had puffy, red cheeks. Her smile was huge, and gleamed just like the tiara she had on. Bellamy grinned down at the picture.

'Sorry, things are getting crazy over here. Lincoln's family is _huge_! I had no idea how many cousins and second cousins he had.'

Bellamy could almost see her, eyes lit up, smile wide and bright as she spoke into the phone, probably with her other hand covering her ear so she could hear him properly.

'His niece is the sweetest little girl. Her name is Kira, and she's three years old. You'd love her.'

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. 'Uh… sure.'

'Oh come on, Bellamy. You know you'll be a great dad one day – stubborn as hell, and really overbearing probably, but a great dad!'

Bellamy smirked at the backhanded compliment. 'Thanks, O.'

'And I'm sure when you have nieces and nephews, you'll want to spoil them rotten!'

She sounded a little nervous, her high pitch compensating for something. Bellamy picked up on it right away; he always did.

'What does that mean?' he asked, eyes narrowing a little. She couldn't see him, but Bellamy's tone gave him away enough and Octavia piped up.

'Nothing. Don't be so dramatic,' she said sweetly. 'So, how are the Griffins? Tell everyone I say hello, would you?'

Bellamy nodded. 'Sure. It's great… I have some news, actually.'

'Really,' Octavia purred, sounding unsurprised. 'It's about Clarke, right?'

Bellamy could feel a blush creeping into his cheeks. No one could see him, but he was suddenly self-conscious and on display to the world. Telling Octavia was the first hurdle; the first acknowledgment of something real between himself and Clarke, and God that was scary. But he was excited and he wanted to share it, even if it did open any and all doors that led to talks about the future, his feelings and Clarke in general. Bellamy had always been a private guy, but something about Clarke made him want to change.

'We're… we're sort of making a go of it, actually.'

'For real?' Octavia squealed on the other end of the line.

'For real.'

'Finally!' she cried out, though she settled quickly and added: 'I owe Lincoln twenty bucks.'

Bellamy perked up a little. 'What?'

Octavia was chuckling. 'He called it the first time he saw you two in the same room. It was the housewarming party. He'd met you both before, obviously, but that was the first time seeing you and Clarke together. He says he's never seen you look at anybody the way you look at her… Bellamy, you still there?'

Bellamy was sitting against the desk, biting his lip to hide a smug smile. 'I'm here.'

Octavia let out a long breath. 'It took you long enough.'

'Whatever you say, O.'

'Oh, shut up. You love her!'

They both laughed, but Bellamy didn't deny it. Instead he moved on and left the idea dangling in the air. He knew he'd come back to it one day, but for today he was happy enough in the knowledge that he and Clarke were together. Things felt right, a weight had been lifted, and it was like he was seeing clearly for the first time in forever.

'What about you?' he asked her, pushing off the desk and heading to the window. The office looked out onto the garden. He could see Raven all the way at the end, toeing the frozen pond. Just coming down the steps onto the grass was Clarke.

'Well, now that you mention it,' said Octavia slowly. Bellamy forced his attention back to her.

'What?'

'I have some exciting news of my own, big brother!'

Bellamy's stomach dropped. _Please don't be pregnant._

'It's about Lincoln and me.'

_Oh, crap_. Bellamy put his head in his hands.

'We're getting married.'

'Thank God,_'_ Bellamy whispered. And then he jerked his head up. 'Wait, what?!'

* * *

><p>'Raven.'<p>

Clarke gingerly stepped over the frozen path and onto the snowy grass. Raven was standing at the end of the garden, just inside the white fence. She was wandering around the edge of the pond. Clarke thanked the Lord they didn't actively keep any fish in there. It was just for decoration; they were a busy family, and none of them had time to take care of fish. Truth be told, given that they'd be outside, the Griffins would probably all forget about them and that just seemed unnecessarily cruel. Clarke spotted Raven about to slip and brought her mind back to the task at hand.

Raven steadied herself and then slipped her hands into the pockets of her red bomber jacket. She sniffed and then looked up.

'Do you hate me?' she asked bluntly, but Clarke knew better. Raven pursed her lips and seemed confident, but it was brief and fleeting and soon Clarke could see behind the tough exterior and into the soul of the girl who thought she was being let go. Again.

Clarke shook her head. 'Of course not.'

Raven shrugged. 'You say that like it's obvious.'

Clarke rounded the pond. Raven was kneeling in the snow, playing with it and watching it fall from her hands. Clarke knelt beside her and touched her shoulder.

'_It is_ obvious. You're my best friend.'

'And you're in love with Bellamy,' said Raven off-handedly. She let the last of the snow drop from her hand and then looked at Clarke, who was staring at the ground. 'Aren't you?'

Clarke wrinkled her nose a little. 'I… I don't know.' She met Raven's gaze then and smiled. 'But I do know… that we're going to give us a real go. We're _together_. Really.'

Raven's mask cracked and she met Clarke's smile with one of her own. She chuckled then.

'What?' Clarke asked, offering her a hand up.

'Nothing,' she said. Clarke raised her eyebrows. 'It's just…' Raven went on as they began the walk back to the house. 'I owe Monty ten bucks. He's had you two pegged since he met Bellamy.'

Clarke could barely believe it. 'Are you crazy? Bellamy and I couldn't stand each other a few weeks ago…'

She trailed off, looking up to the house. Bellamy was in the office, pacing back and forth behind the window. He was rubbing his forehead with one hand, and the other was holding his cell up to his ear. Beside her, Raven was muttering about Monty having a sixth sense about this kind of thing. Clarke brought her attention back to Raven when Bellamy disappeared out of sight.

Clarke looked sideways at her friend. There was something bubbling in her stomach, and she felt a little like if she didn't ask now she never would, and she just needed to know. After Finn, after everything… she needed to know Raven didn't feel that way about Bellamy too.

'Why'd you do it?'

'Do what?' Raven asked, as though broaching the subject was a bad idea. Clarke knew it probably was, but that didn't stop her.

'Why did you sleep with Bellamy?'

Clarke stopped and touched Raven's arm to stop her too. They stood for a moment, just watching, feeling each other out. Clarke remembered what Bellamy had said; that it didn't feel like his secret to tell, and Clarke knew that it came down to Raven. She wanted to know why.

'We should probably start with when,' Raven said. She started walking again, and Clarke followed. 'It was a few months ago, right after Finn came to the apartment drunk and trying to win you back.'

'Oh,' Clarke said, and she suddenly wished she hadn't asked. This was nothing but painful for Raven.

'I went to Bellamy's looking for Octavia because I wanted to get drunk, and I found him instead. You know how it goes. Boy likes girl, girl's best friend has her heart broken, boy sleeps with girl's best friend. Tale as old as time, right?'

They came to the steps and Raven started up them. Clarke waited at the bottom a moment longer.

'Boy likes girl?' she called, brows furrowing.

Raven turned to her and scoffed. 'Oh, come on Clarke,' she said, descending a step. 'Bellamy is ass backwards in love with you, and he has been for a long time. You want to know why he slept with me?' she said this with absolutely no malice in her voice. There was only gentleness about her as she gestured for Clarke to follow her up the stairs.

Clarke felt a little too dumbstruck to move, but managed to get her legs going.

'Why?' she whispered when she caught up.

Raven put her arm through Clarke's. 'I told him Finn wanted you back, and I thought you were considering it.' Clarke's mouth dropped open, but Raven waved it off. 'I don't now, obviously. But you have to understand that at the time, I was still in love with Finn; my judgement was biased, and I was upset. You should have seen his face.'

Clarke felt guilt pooling in her stomach. Why hadn't she seen it before? Why had it taken her so long?

'We had some drinks and it escalated, and that's it.' Raven stopped them as they came to the back door. She turned to Clarke and nudged her affectionately. 'Bellamy's always been yours.' The words hung in the air for a moment.

'Okay?' Raven said, opening the door.

Clarke nodded, though Raven didn't see. 'Okay.'

They made their way through to the hallway and found Finn. He'd gathered Raven's things and was waiting with car keys in hand. He touched the small of Raven's back as she passed him, and then he turned to Clarke. They stepped quietly off to the side, though Clarke was very aware of Bellamy's eyes on them as he came through from the office.

'Clarke,' Finn said quietly. It seemed as though the words were on the tip of his tongue, but he was having trouble with them.

'Finn, we'll talk when I'm back,' Clarke said kindly, and then she took a step back and smiled. 'You should get going. Raven's mom needs her… and Raven needs you to be there, alright?'

Finn nodded. 'Of course. Bellamy,' he said politely as he came up behind Clarke.

His warmth radiated into her, toasting her from the outside in and washing away the cold she'd brought in with her. She turned slightly, so that her shoulder was pressed against his chest. Raven made her way over, having left Finn to take her things to the car. Abby and Jake called that they were coming to say goodbye. Wells, Maya and Thelonious appeared from the living room, and each said their goodbyes. Raven came to Bellamy then. She clapped him on the shoulder and grinned.

'Don't be a dick,' she said, gesturing at Clarke. He rolled his eyes.

Raven moved sideways and wrapped her arms tight around Clarke.

'See you soon,' she whispered, and Clarke smiled into her shoulder.

'See you soon.'

Raven said her goodbyes to Jake and Abby, with hugs all round, and then followed Finn out to the car. She made a point of stopping and taking a last look at the house. Bellamy slid his arm around Clarke's shoulders and she relaxed into him, her gaze on the back of the car as it drove away from them. They turned left at the end of the road, and that was that. Clarke knew she'd see Raven in about a week, but it didn't mean she'd miss having her around. Raven Reyes was a force of nature. Abby closed the door and led everyone back through to the kitchen, and Clarke remembered what Raven had told her the first time she'd visited.

'_It's been a long time since I've been in a house that felt this much like home.'_

Looking up at Bellamy, who was listening intently to something Wells was saying, Clarke had to agree.

* * *

><p>By the time Christmas dinner arrived two days later, Clarke and Bellamy were in full swing. They were going to bed and waking up together, preparing breakfast for each other, little touches here and there; pretty much exactly as they had been when they were pretending, Bellamy pondered, but it was different now. Nothing was forced, nothing had to be remembered on the off chance that they were caught lying. Everything that had happened in the last two days was real, and Bellamy struggled to recall a time in his life when he'd been this happy. He hadn't spoken to Octavia in two days, and that was stretching a grey cloud over and otherwise bright blue sky. He'd screened her calls, and eventually she'd just stopped. They didn't see eye to eye on this at all.<p>

Thelonious was just finishing up a long, overdrawn toast. Bellamy wasn't one for speeches, really. He was starving. Clarke had warned him not to eat much that day; her father always made enough food for a hundred people, and he'd want to eat all of it.

She was right of course.

She smiled at him over her glass of wine, and the look in her eye was one he'd seen twice before, right before she'd tried to rip his shirt off. He stopped her the first time; they were in the living room, for God's sakes. The second time, Finn had knocked on the door and extinguished any romance in the air. This time, she looked ready to jump him over the table. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stop a third time…

'I'm glad you came, Bellamy,' said Jake suddenly, and Bellamy felt like he was a hundred miles away. He quickly collected himself and raised his glass, like Jake had encouraged the others to. 'To Wells and Maya, and to Clarke and Bellamy,' he said. Clarke flushed. 'And to the future.'

They toasted, and then set about eating. The food, as predicted, was incredible, and Bellamy could scarcely control himself as he gobbled down his serving. He slowed down a little, not that anybody seemed to notice. They were all engrossed in small talk. Abby was sitting on Bellamy's right side.

'Speaking of the future,' she said brightly, looking to Clarke across the table. 'I've been talking with Marcus.'

Bellamy saw Jake roll his eyes ever so slightly, but what Clarke said next got his attention.

'Mom, we don't need to talk about that now.'

'Of course we do – it's wonderful news, and we did just toast the future.'

'What's going on?' Wells asked, beating Bellamy to the punch.

'As you all know, Clarke plans to become a doctor.'

Bellamy looked proudly at his girlfriend, but she avoided his gaze.

'And I have it on good authority from my friends on the admissions board that Clarke already has a place waiting for her at Harvard Medical School.'

Jake clapped, and Thelonious and Maya and Wells joined in. Clarke didn't say a word, and Bellamy felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. _Harvard. Harvard medical school, not Chicago med. Boston, not Chicago…_

Clarke looked up at him finally. Her eyes were a little wet, or maybe it was just the candlelight making them shine. Either way, Bellamy felt about two inches tall, and like he was about to break.

'You're moving to Boston?'


	9. Nine

**A/N**: Hey guys! We're almost to the end! There'll definitely be one more chapter after this, though! x

* * *

><p><strong>NINE<strong>

Bellamy was out of his seat in mere moments. By the time Clarke had pushed her own back and thrown a painstaking glare at her mother, he was already halfway up the stairs. His footsteps were heavy on every step, and each thud felt like a throb in Clarke's head. Her throat was dry; she didn't know how she was going to fix this. What little trust they had built between them over the last week, the feelings that were real, despite what he might say next; all of it was at risk. Clarke grabbed the bannister to help propel herself up the stairs after him. The door to her bedroom slammed hard, shaking the walls around it, but it didn't dissuade Clarke from her cause. She had to fix it, and she had to fix it now.

By the time she reached the landing, Abby was hot on her heels and coming up the stairs behind her.

'Clarke,' she hissed, motioning her back.

Clarke looked back at her over her shoulder and debated for a moment. She was angry. Like really, _really_ angry. She wanted to give her mother a piece of her mind about many things; Harvard, pushing her own career, ruining her relationship – _God_, was there even a relationship there to ruin? She put her hand on her forehead and looked between her bedroom door and her mother. She settled.

'How could you do that?' Clarke demanded, though she kept her voice hushed. She marched over to her mother.

'Why doesn't Bellamy know about Harvard?' Abby retorted, furrowing her brows.

Clarke began to reply, but she stopped dead when she realized the reason Abby thought it was a good idea to speak so freely. To her, and her father and Maya and the Jahas too, Bellamy and Clarke hadn't only been together for about two days. It had been six months. That was avid time to prepare Bellamy for something as big as moving to Boston. In fact, it was ample time to decide whether they'd try and make it work long distance. Could they do that? Clarke pursed her lips. She was angry about a lot of things, and while her mother was one of them, the main issue she had with the whole thing was herself.

'I thought you would have talked about it. It's the kind of thing you mention when you're in a healthy relationship, and he seems to love your very much-'

'I just didn't tell him alright? It's only been six months, we're not talking about the rest of our lives here, and moving to Boston is a big deal, okay?' Clarke put her hands up and shook them. 'It doesn't matter. The point is that I haven't even decided if I want to go. I like Chicago; I love it. I love my apartment, my school. I love living with Raven and Octavia, and having Jasper and Monty and Miller and everyone close by. My life is there… and I love…'

She trailed off, swallowing, and glanced back to her bedroom door.

'Clarke,' Abby said gently. She touched her daughter's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 'Sweetheart. You can't put your future – one as bright as yours – in the hands of one boy.'

Clarke's gaze was stuck. Behind the door was Bellamy, whose heart she had probably damaged beyond quick repair. Sure, he'd get over it and move on, find another nice girl who didn't keep things from him, and he'd be happy. Clarke stretched her hands out at her sides; the thought of him being happy with anyone but her… She turned back to her mother, and looking at her with an ache in her chest, Clarke shrugged.

'What if he's_ the_ boy?'

* * *

><p>Raven tried to block out the cries of the woman down the hall. Sitting in the clinically white building, where her mother had been admitted just a day earlier, Raven was struggling to wrap her head around how, exactly, she'd gotten to be there. What had she done wrong in a previous life to have to deal with all the bad stuff in this one? She was exhausted, running on barely any sleep, and all she really wanted was a steaming mug of coffee. Preferably Irish. It was inevitable that Finn would bring her one, and moments later he did.<p>

'Thought you might want this,' he said, handing her the plastic white cup. God, everything was so white here.

Raven straightened in her chair and accepted it, abiding his warnings about it being hot. She took a sip and singed her tongue, but didn't much care. Finn took the seat beside her and yawned. He slumped down and retrieved his cell phone. Flicking through the screen, Raven saw him open his recent and missed calls. She drew her lips into a thin line and then touched his arm.

'Clarke isn't coming back to you, Finn,' she said quietly, and she was surprised when he nodded.

'I know that.'

He turned to her with a brave smile, and Raven turned to look ahead again.

'You should go home,' she said, chancing a sip of her coffee. 'It's Christmas; go be with your family.'

'I am,' he said quietly.

Raven felt her stomach swell. Whatever she'd felt for him in the past, whatever they'd been through and whatever might come, Raven knew that Finn would be there. They might have broken each other's hearts, which is to say that he broke hers, but they were passed it. They were friends now. Family. Raven smiled and Finn slipped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

'I don't know how long I'll have to wait here to see her,' Raven said, sighing. She felt Finn shrug.

'However long it takes.'

Raven smiled. Sure, she had her problems and most of them came down to her mother; her fear of being left, rejected, unloved. But she was dealing with them. She had Clarke and Finn and Octavia and, hell, she even had Bellamy too. There people around her that made it all better. Raven felt at peace and, suddenly, she felt brave. Slipping out of Finn's arm, she mentioned having to make a call. He nodded and said he's go and find out if they could see her mother yet.

Raven headed out into the lobby. She pulled her cell out of her back pocket and pulled up the newest number in it. It rang a thrice, giving Raven enough time to figure out just what the hell she was going to say to him. When he answered, he sounded tired.

'Yeah?'

'Wick,' she said quietly, and he immediately perked up.

'Wrench monkey,' he chuckled. The sound made butterflies dance in her stomach. 'Remind me to tell Bellamy thanks.'

Raven grinned.

'Are you busy next Friday?'

* * *

><p>Clarke didn't move until she heard Abby close the dining room door. She expected to hear some chatter, just soft mumblings filtering through. She suspected they were all wondering what on earth had just happened, and if Clarke and Bellamy were going to have some kind of argument. Clarke wasn't sure what way the next couple of hours would go, but she had a feeling it wouldn't be well, and she didn't want Wells and everybody else to overhear something that was sure to be painful.<p>

The radio in the dining room piped up suddenly, and the volume continued to rise. Clarke could picture her mother with the controls and made a mental note to thank her later in the week. Straightening her clothes and rubbing her hands together, Clarke turned for her bedroom. She crossed the landing slowly, trying to figure out what on earth she was going to say to the boy waiting behind her door. She half hoped he'd talk first, but she wasn't so sure she wanted to hear what he had to say to her. She took a deep breath and turned the door handle. She expected to find him sitting on the bed, or staring out of the window. She wasn't ready for the sight of him ferociously throwing clothes into his bag.

'What are you doing?'

'Leaving,' he said simply. He didn't stop to talk, and he didn't look at her.

Clarke ventured into the room a little more, letting the door swing shut, and Bellamy turned suddenly. He walked towards her with purpose, brushing past and grabbing a jacket off the back of the door hanger. Clarke's hair stood on end as their bare arms touched, but Bellamy didn't seem fazed at all as he rushed back to where his bag lay open on the bed. Clarke quickly tried to decide the best course of action. The only thing she knew for sure was that she really didn't want him to leave, especially not this way.

'Bellamy –'

'Don't. I don't want to hear it.'

'No, listen. I –'

'Clarke,' he said sharply, almost looking over his shoulder.

His tone stilled her immediately. The line of his shoulders was low, and he didn't move for a few moments. They stood together in a pregnant pause, and Clarke daren't breathe for fear of disturbing it. She was afraid of what he might say if or when he finally spoke again. Her heart was threatening to beat right out of its cage; she could hear her pulse in her ears, and she was feeling hot and cold at the same time. What the hell was Bellamy Blake doing to her? And more importantly, what had she done to him?

Clarke took a step closer. Bellamy stood a little straighter.

'Bellamy, I want to talk about this.'

'Nothing to talk about,' he said quickly, and then he finally turned to her. He crossed his arms. 'Could you get me the number for a cab company around here?'

Clarke narrowed her eyes. 'You can't just leave. It's freezing out, the roads are backed up with snow; it's dangerous. There won't be any cabs running.'

'Then I'll walk.'

'Back to Chicago?' Clarke asked, folding her arms.

'If I have to.'

They stared at each other. Clarke knew she was in the wrong; she should have told him about Harvard when he told her about Raven.

'Honesty,' Bellamy said. 'That was a good one.'

'I wasn't kidding.'

'Obviously,' he said snidely, before turning back to his bag. He started packing more things into it, roughly pulling shirts and pants out of drawers and tossing them around. Clarke would find his dramatics amusing if they didn't hurt so damn much.

'Bellamy, please don't leave.'

Her words hung in the air, but they didn't distract him long enough to stop packing. If anything, he sped up. He pulled the zipper closed and then dragged the bag onto the floor. Staring at Clarke, he raised his eyebrows.

'No reason to stay. Dinner was great, this ruse is up; can't imagine your family will think we're happy anymore, after all, and let's not forget the fact that you lied.' His volume went up briefly, but when he spoke again his voice was low and chilling.

'You lied to me.'

'I didn't decide to. It just happened.'

'You just didn't feel like dropping it in at any point in the last week?' Bellamy shook his head at her. 'When you were guilt tripping me about Raven, maybe?'

'I never guilt tripped you!'

He put his hands on his hips and scoffed, looking around. 'You're the one who made the speech about honesty, about how we have to tell each other everything for this to work. Well guess what, Princess?'

Clarke closed her eyes at the nickname, spoken now with such malice that she'd never acquaint it as being said by the same guy who, just a few hours earlier, had been looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. She didn't need to ask for the answer.

'It didn't work. We're done and I'm leaving.'

He picked his bag up and hauled it towards the door, but when he tried to open it Clarke decided enough was enough and pushed it closed again with her palm. They were very close, though Bellamy refused to turn his head to her. Clarke moved to put herself between him and the door, and as she did he stepped away. It was as if he couldn't stand to be in the same space as her, and it ate away at Clarke.

'Even if I went to Boston, I don't start school until next September. We have time-'

'Oh, well at least you have you're out.'

'I didn't mean that… We're going to figure this out,' she said quietly, following him with her gaze as he moved over to the window.

'There's nothing to figure out!' he said, wheeling around. 'This,' he gestured between them. 'This isn't real!'

Something broke in Clarke's resolve and, with apparently nothing to lose, she squared up to him.

'It might have started out that way but that's not where we've ended up!'

'We haven't ended up anywhere, Clarke!'

'Really?'

She proceeded towards him, eyes hooded, and the closer she got the more he seemed to fidget. He looked everywhere but at her, but Clarke was focused and all she saw was the outline of his hips where his hands rested. His shirt was a little loose and Clarke found her mind wandering to the toned stomach underneath. She dragged her gaze up and found him looking down at her.

'You're not pissed off because I didn't say anything…' she began, looking him over.

'Oh I am,' he said, nodding.

'Fine! But you're not only pissed about that. You're upset because you care, Bellamy. You care about me.'

He looked down, but didn't deny it.

'Raven even thinks you're in love with me.'

He looked up again, and as he did Clarke drew closer again. She licked her lips, and while she didn't really know what she was doing, she couldn't help but feel like it was working. It wasn't, however, as Bellamy brushed past her a moment later with his bag in hand. He was heading for the door. Clarke followed.

'You did what you did and it's done. _We're done_,' he said.

'Bellamy –'

'Bill me for however much I owe you for the damn carpet and that'll be it. I won't come around and I won't call. We'll go back to being nothing to each other.' He shrugged. 'Easier that way, right?'

Clarke grabbed his arm. 'We were never nothing to each other!'

He ground his jaw and gingerly placed a hand on the door handle.

'Bellamy, stop!' She pulled him back and wheeled him back to face her. 'I'm sorry! I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Harvard, I'm sorry my mother dropped it on you in front of everyone. I don't even know if I want to leave Chicago – I have a lot of stuff there, and I don't know if I'm ready to leave, alright? I just don't know!'

Her chest was heaving by the end, eyes wide with honesty and Bellamy was just looking at her like she hadn't said anything at all. His arms were crossed tight, and all Clarke wanted was for him to take her in, hold her and tell her it would be alright. She couldn't pinpoint when, exactly, he started meaning so much to her; she only knew she didn't want it to stop. She didn't him to walk away, to go home to Chicago without her.

Clarke was resolved.

She took his face in both hands and pulled him down, meeting his lips with her own. Bellamy tried to pull back, and he succeeded eventually. He ripped his lips away from her and grabbed her wrists in his hands. Clarke wasn't sure what to do next. He was breathing heavily, searching her eyes. He flexed his fingers, and then tightened his hold on her.

'I can fix this,' Clarke whispered.

He shook his head.

'I don't think so…'

Clarke pushed closer to him. Her chest was pressed up against his hands, and he locked her gaze.

'Bellamy…' she whispered.

He took a deep breath, and for a moment time seemed to slow. A million things rushed through Clarke's head. This was it, he was going to leave and this was the last of what little they had together. Bellamy's hold on her wrists was getting slack, and Clarke was already missing the heat that radiated from them.

That's when he kissed her, hands cradling her head and getting all tangled up in her hair, going down to her waist and lifting her up off the floor. Clarke was quick to react, arms wrapping around his neck as he carried her over to her bed. He threw her down all too ungracefully and Clarke didn't care; she grabbed his shirt and dragged him down, so that he was bent over her. He kissed her jaw, her neck and she growled at the contact. He was grinding against her, and if it weren't for the shirt on his back Clarke was sure she would draw blood with her fingernails.

He stood up and pulled said shirt off, and Clarke followed suit. She hitched her dress up from her thighs and to her waist and Bellamy helped her with the rest, scraping it off. She lay back down and he pressed down on top of her. Her legs went either side of his waist and as he kissed down her chest she moaned out loud. His hands went to her stockings and, very unceremoniously, he pulled them away from her skin and tore them off.

Clarke pulled him back up and rolled them over; she liked being on top, but she knew that it was going to be a battle for dominance. Straddling him, she sat up and leaned back to find his belt. After pulling it off, she meticulously kissed her way along his stomach, hitting each and every ab before going back up to his neck. Bellamy's hand went around to the clasp of her bra. He made short work of it and then flipped them over, pinning her arms above her head.

For one quick moment, they just watched each other. After that, Bellamy started kissing down her chest, stomach, waist and groin. Her panties were pulled down, and everything after that became a steamy, sweaty blur. Clarke was in ecstasy, and even when she lost control of all her senses, they were still all Bellamy.

* * *

><p>Clarke woke up in the middle of the night. She was wrapped in her bed sheets and sweaty, but the smell of Bellamy was still in the air and she curled her toes at the memory of him. She stretched and rolled over, only to find that he wasn't where he'd fallen asleep beside her. She looked to the window, and he wasn't standing there. She sat up, holding the sheets to her naked chest, and peered around the room. He was nowhere to be found, and his suitcase was gone from beside the door. Clarke's eyes burned with unfallen tears suddenly and, blinking through them, she looked down and found a note scrawled on a ripped piece of paper.<p>

_We can't fix it. I'm sorry._

Clarke swallowed back the tears and stood up. Retrieving her bra from the floor, she quickly hooked it behind her back. Minutes later she was dressed and heading downstairs. She left a note for her parents, explaining that she and Bellamy had to leave urgently, and then grabbed her coat, scarf and gloves. Making sure she had all her money, her cell and everything she needed, Clarke left the house and closed the door behind her. She inspected the road outside; it didn't actually look that bad. She checked her tyres and, happy to proceed, got in the car and made for the interstate.

She was anything but a quitter, and it was about time he figured that out. If someone had told her six months ago that she'd be here now, Clarke would have scoffed. She smiled at her own naivety. It had always been there, and now she had to fight for it.

She was going after Bellamy Blake.


	10. Ten

**A/N**: So, this is the last chapter and I wanted to do something different with it, hence how the date skips back and forth. I kind of like it!

I know it's not been a very long story (what with it only being ten chapters!) but I am so, so thrilled with the response it's had. You guys are amazing and without your support and reviews I definitely might not have been so enthused about updating so often. Snaps for all of you! There's a whole lot to get through in this chapter; will Raven be seeing Wick? Will Clarke reach Bellamy? Will Bellamy get his head out of his ass long enough to see reason for Octavia? Will Bellamy pull his head out of his ass long enough to listen to what Clarke has to say?

Basically a lot has to happen.

Also I don't know about you guys but I feel like if anyone is a potty mouth in this universe, it's Octavia. And she's pissed.

Onward! X

* * *

><p><strong>TEN<strong>

**December 31****st ****(present day)**

'Are you a fucking moron?'

The pounding in his head, Bellamy soon discovered, was a mixture of the whiskey he'd finished off the night before and his little sister at his front door. He thought the throbbing was just after effect, lulling him out of sleep and punishing him for over-indulging the night before, and probably the four days before that. It had been six days since he'd left the Griffins; he hadn't been checking his phone, except once or twice when Octavia's ringtone rang, and he hadn't really left his apartment. He was moping, if he was honest, and apparently Octavia wasn't happy about it.

'Language, O,' he admonished after pulling the door open.

He narrowed his eyes at the light streaming in from the window opposite his door, and Octavia sent a pointed head tilt his way. She was waiting for him to move aside, but patience had never been her strong suit. She pushed past him into the apartment and clipped him on the shoulder for good measure as she went. Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck and closed the door behind them. Octavia was already rooting through his kitchen cupboards by the time he joined her in the kitchen.

'You really let this place go to hell after I left.'

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. 'This place? It's an apartment, not a bar.'

'Judging by the look of these,' she said, eyeing a half-eaten bag of peanuts. 'I'm not so sure.'

Bellamy rolled his eyes. His sister was anything but subtle. He folded his arms. 'Is there a reason you interrupted my morning? Or did you just want to piss me off.'

Octavia stared at him. 'It's one in the afternoon.'

'What?'

Bellamy looked at his wrist. As he suspected, his watch still read nine thirty. It had stopped the day before, but Bellamy had been a little too happy to care. Well, as happy as he could be after downing a bottle of whiskey, eating nothing all day, and moping about how he was completely in love with a girl, with whom a relationship was just out of the question. He'd seen to that the moment he'd untangled his arms from around her and slipped quietly out of her bed. _God_, and then he'd left the note. Bellamy pinched the bridge of his nose.

'Back to the point,' Octavia said, her expression softening somewhat upon seeing him so conflicted. 'What is going on with you?'

He led her into the living room, which pretty much comprised the entire apartment. After his mother had passed away, Bellamy used most of the left over money to start Octavia up in school and pay for his own graduation. After the essentials, he needed a new apartment. He couldn't stay in their old one; waking up in the middle of the night, when all he could see was his mother's lifeless body on the floor. It got too much so he packed his – and what Octavia had left – all up and moved further North and closer to Octavia's school. The apartment he lived in was moderate, to say the least, but it was more than what a lot of people had. One bedroom, separate bathroom, lots of storage and a large kitchen come living area. It was comfortable, and he was happy there. He'd be a lot happier somewhere else, with someone specific, but alas, he'd been as ass.

'Bell?'

He sat down on the couch and covered his face in his hands. He let out a deep breath, and then decided it was time to say the words out loud. It might hurt less if someone else knew.

'I love her, O.'

He heard Octavia scoff.

'I know. So get the fuck on with it because she loves you too.'

Bellamy looked up. 'What?'

Octavia was smiling smugly at him, and tapping her foot. She'd probably spoken to Clarke between now and returning from Washington, though why it had taken her two days to come by his place, he didn't know. Maybe something was up, perhaps Octavia had conspired with Clarke about something, and Octavia had been sent as a messenger. Bellamy felt his spirit climb suddenly, like it had been asleep for the longest time and the thought of Clarke, seeing her face, was enough to make his heart start beating again. He cussed himself out.

'Where's Clarke now?'

Octavia's smile faltered and she crossed the room to sit beside him. 'Bell.'

'What is it?'

Octavia looked around the room. She reached up with her left hand to push her hair back behind her ear, and that's when Bellamy finally set eyes on the square cut diamond on her ring finger. He reached out and took her hand, and though she tried to pull away, he kept a tight hold on it and inspected the ring in the light. Octavia was watching him, gaging his reaction, but Bellamy didn't feel much of anything except… wait, was that_ joy_ pooling in his stomach? He withdrew his hands and placed them in his lap.

'I know you and Lincoln don't really get along…' she began precariously. 'But,' she turned to face him fully. 'I'm in love with him, and I'm going to marry him.'

Bellamy didn't offer a reply right away. He was thinking on her words: _I'm in love with him, and I'm going to marry him._ Bellamy took a deep breath and sat back on the couch and, then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he spoke.

'Okay.'

Octavia raised her eyebrows and moved her head from side to side, like she was trying to see through him.

'Okay?'

He nodded. 'Okay.'

'But you don't like Lincoln, and it's just okay?'

Bellamy smiled at her, and then sat straight again and took her hand. 'Apparently there are a couple of people in my life I thought I didn't like.'

'But it turns out you loved them?' Octavia finished for him. She snorted. 'God, you are such a hallmark card. Just don't fall in love with Lincoln like you did with Clarke, alright?'

Octavia pushed herself off the couch and headed over to the coat rack. She threw his jacket at him.

'Now, hurry the hell up.'

'What for?' he asked, eyes narrowed. He double checked he was dressed before pulling on his jacket. 'Is Clarke in the city somewhere?'

Octavia shook her head. 'Do you have your credit card?'

He nodded. 'What's going on?'

Octavia pulled the door open and motioned for him to follow. 'Come on, we don't have much time.'

Bellamy stopped opposite her in the doorway. 'O, what is going on?'

'Clarke's not in the city today, or the next couple of days. She's heading to the airport.'

Bellamy's heart began to race.

'She's meeting her mother's friend, Marcus, as a favour.' She paused. 'Bellamy, he's on the board of admissions at Harvard.'

Bellamy frowned. 'But it's New Year's Eve. Why would he see her on New Year's Eve-'

'Are you fucking kidding me right now?'

Octavia hustled him out of the door and threw her car keys at him.

'Now hurry your ass up and go get her.'

'It's not like she's leaving for good-'

Octavia hit him on the arm. Bellamy took off down the hall, heading for the stairwell, before she called to him and he looked back at her

'Where does Wick live?'

* * *

><p><strong>December 27<strong>**th**

Clarke was starting to regret her decision to hit the roads so late at night. She knew her parents had been worried, but she'd called them as soon as she'd reached Chicago. It had been almost six in the evening by the time she got to the apartment, and so far it was proving to be for nothing. Bellamy wasn't answering his cell phone; she'd left an embarrassing number of voicemails and, honestly, it was really starting to piss her off. He was the one who left her right after sex.

She'd been pacing for a good five minutes when the door to the apartment opened, and Clarke's stomach leapt suddenly at the idea that it could be him.

She was greeted by Lincoln, who was carrying more than a few suitcases and Clarke surmised they were mostly Octavia's. She moved to the doorway and greeted him, then helped him carry his things through to Octavia's bedroom. She wasn't far behind him, and leapt onto Clarke the moment she set foot through the door.

'Clarke!' she squealed, and Clarke chuckled.

'I missed you,' Clarke said as they pulled apart. Octavia gave her a knowing look.

'What are you talking about, you had Bellamy there,' she said, smirking. 'He's _almost_ as good as me.'

Clarke tried to smile, she really tried hard. She knew Octavia would see right through her, and while part of her wanted that; part of her wanted her best friend to comfort her, Clarke knew Octavia well enough to know that, when it came down to it, the most important person in her life – aside from Lincoln, now – was Bellamy. Octavia would go to bat for him before anyone else, and Clarke realized, looking at Octavia now, that she was about to find out just how loyal Octavia Blake was.

'About that,' Clarke said, looking at the floor.

Octavia put her hands on her hips. 'What did you do?'

'It was more of a mutual thing,' Clarke began wrapping her arms around herself. 'He found out about Harvard, which I may have omitted…' She dragged her gaze back up to Octavia, who didn't look one bit impressed. 'And then he left me in the middle of the night.'

Octavia closed her eyes and sighed loudly. 'You two are such idiots. Lincoln, where's my phone?'

'Back pocket,' he said without looking up from their bags.

Octavia pulled it out and put it to her ear with her left hand. Clarke gawped at the ring on her finger.

'Oh, right,' Octavia said, waving her hand. 'I'm engaged.'

Clarke nodded, somewhat bewildered, and turned away. She pulled out her own phone and quickly found a missed call and a waiting message. Her breath caught and she shakily held the phone to her ear after pressing dial.

Her stomach fell as the message played back.

'Clarke, it's Marcus Kane! It's been a long time, but I was talking to your mother before the holidays and thought I should give you a call. I'd like you to come down to Boston so we can chat about your future. Abby told me you were considering Harvard, and I think it's a great fit. Call me back and we'll figure out a date, but looking at my calendar now it seems I'm free for dinner New Year's Eve. You probably have plans, but like I said, call me back and we'll figure something out. I look forward to hearing from you!'

Clarke listened as the automated voice gave her options; delete, save, call sender. She looked to Octavia, who pulled her phone away from her ear and shrugged.

'Bell's not answering.'

Clarke drew her lips into a thin line and, resolved – ignoring the sound of her own heart breaking in her chest – she pressed three. He picked up after two rings.

'Marcus, hi!' she said brightly, willing away tears. 'It's Clarke. Sorry I missed your call.'

'That's no problem, Clarke,' he said, and Clarke pictured the man she'd met when she was just seven. It had been a long time. 'What are you thinking?'

Clarke looked at Octavia, and there was so much Bellamy in the girl's face that Clarke took a moment to reconsider. But then she remembered that she wasn't the one that left first. She turned away from Octavia and smiled into the handset.

'Turns out I'm free for dinner New Year's Eve, so should I book a flight?'

* * *

><p><strong>December 28<strong>**th**

'Can I come in?'

Clarke looked up at the surprising sound. The door to her bedroom was ajar, and so it shouldn't have come as a shock when someone asked for entry. What was shocking, however, was that it was Lincoln standing before her with his hands shoved into his pockets. They'd never been alone before, and while it wasn't weird, it certainly wasn't comfortable. They got on really well; he was over at the apartment a lot, especially the last few months, and he always made breakfast if he'd stayed the night. Clarke liked the guy. He treated Octavia perfectly, and he was a good listener. But the silence between them seemed charged with some unspoken words.

Clarke nodded at him, smiling. She closed her textbook and sat up, cross-legged, at the head of her bed. Lincoln seemed unsure at first, and cautiously made his way into the room. Clarke motioned for him to sit down and he did, at the end of her bed. He rubbed his hands together a little awkwardly, and Clarke couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been collected. She gathered that he wanted to say something, but probably didn't think it was his place. It was no secret that Clarke's 'relationship' with Bellamy had gone down in ruins, but the last person she'd expected to find coming to talk to her about it was Lincoln.

'What's up?' she asked, when she couldn't take the silence any more.

'Look,' Lincoln said, seemingly equally as relieved at the sound. 'Bellamy's not my favourite person, but Octavia is… and she's upset because he's upset because he upset you and you upset him.'

'I think upset is a little bit of an understatement. He left me…' she replied, not bothering to go into detail. The look on Lincoln's face suggested he already understood what she meant.

'Clarke… I know this isn't my place, but I just wanted to say that I get it.'

She furrowed her brow. 'I don't understand.'

'Before Octavia there was a girl,' he began, looking up at her. 'And it didn't work out. It kind of broke me for a while there, and so when Octavia and I first met I wasn't ready. I was terrified. But now I wouldn't give her up for the world. I love her. So… I get that you're probably scared after everything that happened with Finn, and I just wanted you to know that…' he trailed off, chuckling. 'I can't believe I'm in here defending Bellamy Blake.'

Clarke laughed, and so did he.

'Thank you,' she said, sincerely, but it didn't really sway her. 'But it's like you said. After everything that happened with Finn… and now Bellamy's just another guy that walked away. I mean, Finn didn't so much walk away as much I kicked him out,' she said, offering a sad smile. 'But Bellamy's still the guy that didn't seem to think I was worth waiting around for.'

She stood up, and Lincoln followed.

'Thank you for saying that, really,' she continued. 'I'm okay. I mean… it kinda sucks because I think for a second there I really did love him. But whatever, right?' She rocked back and forth on her toes. 'Boston awaits.'

Lincoln looked her over. 'For what it's worth,' he said. 'I think you're wrong.'

Clarke shrugged. 'It is what it is.'

Lincoln was half way out of the door when he turned back one last time. 'Clarke, he looks at you like you hung the damn moon. It's not over until it's over, right?' She furrowed her brows. 'What?'

Clarke sat back down and opened her textbook once more. 'Just never thought I'd be talking to you about this.'

Lincoln smiled gently, and then he was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>December 29<strong>**th**

'You might want to slow down.'

Bellamy raised his eyebrow at Wick from across the bar and scoffed. In a true act of defiance, Bellamy took another swig of his whiskey bottle and stared at his friend. Wick stared back, arms folded across his chest as he watched Bellamy's slow descent into misery.

'It's kinda sad,' Wick said.

Bellamy took another swig.

'Cry me a river,' said Wick, rolling his eyes.

Another sip. Wick threw his dish towel at his friend. Bellamy's impaired hand-eye coordination made it impossible for him to catch it before it hit him in the face. Wick turned away.

'If you're so damn bent on being heartbroken, why not go the whole nine yards?' he said, searching the top shelf. 'At least drink the good stuff.'

'Blake!'

Both Bellamy and Wick turned at the sound of Raven Reyes, loud and annoyed, in the doorway of the Ark. She stormed over to where Bellamy was sitting, and while Wick found himself immediately distracted by her, even he shrank back a little in her presence.

'You wanna tell me what the hell you think you're doing with Clarke?'

She stopped just beside Bellamy, but he merely looked away and stuck the bottle of whiskey back to his lips. He shrugged, and his voice was distorted when he spoke.

'She's leaving.'

Raven slapped him on the arm. 'In like nine months! How much time do you need to figure things out? Ten?'

Bellamy didn't reply. He grabbed the bottle and stood up, before heading in the direction of an empty, closed off booth in the corner of the bar. Raven watched him go, mouth slightly agape, before turning back to Wick. He leaned forward on the bar, hoping just a little that she'd lean in too and kiss him real good. She didn't, so he settled for just looking her in the eye. She nodded in the direction of a bottle hanging up, and he poured her a shot of vodka. She drank it quickly.

'Have you ever seen anything so stupid?' she asked Wick.

'He's even more pathetic than usual today. Octavia hasn't been around either, apparently.'

'He won't answer his damn cell phone is why, and she can't find her key. She's too excited about being engaged to find it, and Lincoln isn't being very helpful. As for Clarke…' Raven trailed off, like there was something on the tip of her tongue. She didn't say it, whatever it was, and Wick didn't push her to. He leaned against the back wall and threw his rag over his shoulder.

'You coming over tonight?' he asked, biting his lip.

Raven rolled her eyes at him, but she couldn't hide the smile brewing on her face. She cleared her throat loudly and turned on her heel. 'Leave the door unlocked and maybe I'll surprise you.'

Wick grinned. Whatever she was doing to his heart, he liked it. He liked it a lot. Bellamy was scowling at him from the corner. Wick flipped him the bird with a shit-eating grin and then, feeling a little badly about it, he took a bag of peanuts over to his friend. He even opened them for him too.

* * *

><p><strong>December 31<strong>**st ****(present day)**

'Wrench monkey,' Wick drawled from where he was lying in bed. 'What are you doing all the way over there?'

Raven chuckled from where she stood by the window. It was so cliché; sunlight streaming in from the window, bathing her skin in a warm glow, Wick covered up to the waist in white bed sheets – she was surprised his bed sheets were white but then she hadn't much time the night before to care. She didn't really care now, it was just such a magazine-worthy shot. Raven was wrapped up in a red blanket, holding it under her arms. She looked at him from over her shoulder, and he was giving her that lazy smirk; the same lazy smirk that sent her blood rushing and had been known to leave her feeling dizzy.

'Come back to bed, please,' he said quietly, motioning for her to join him.

She shook her head. 'Wick… we need to talk.'

He pouted. 'Uh oh.'

She drew closer and slowly started peeling away the blanket in exchange for her bra. She didn't much care that he was watching her; she'd already given him everything the night before, and while the sex had been _mind-blowing_ and he made her laugh and gave her butterflies, that was exactly the problem.

'This is just sex,' she said simply.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, holding the clasps of her bra up behind her back for him to put together. He obliged, and then ran his hands along the length of her spine. He brought his mouth to the back of her neck and left it there, grazing his lips across her skin and drawing a low moan from her. Raven closed her eyes; she was completely at his mercy. His hands on her skin, leaving a trail of sparks… she was losing her train of thought, and so turned abruptly to him and pinned his arms behind his head.

'I mean it, Wick,' she said, hovering over him so their faces were just a couple of inches apart.

She could feel his breath on her mouth and smirked. If he wanted to tease her, and touch her in just the right spot on her neck, she was pretty sure she could wind him up just the same way. One of her hands wandered down his chest, stroking it and drawing circles. She watched his face and his eyes flickered closed. She liked having the power; it turned her on a little. He bit his lip and she moved her hand further down, passed his stomach and under the bed sheet. Wick gasped then and flipped them over. Raven wriggled, laughing, but he was stronger and kept her in place. She settled for wrapping her legs around his waist; he'd enjoyed it enough last night.

He kissed her jaw.

'Wick,' she said, breathlessly, turning her head a little to help him find that spot on her neck. She placed her hands either side of his face and pulled him back up to look at her. 'Just sex.'

He smirked at her. 'That's fine with me,' he said, though she suspected a little that he might be lying for her benefit. 'Just one thing.'

'What's that?' she said, stroking his cheek.

'Don't fall in love with me, Reyes.'

Raven laughed and shrieked then as he started kissing her jaw and neck and chest and –

'I don't have time to knock!' Octavia's shrill voice came from the hallway, and Raven and Wick both turned their heads to look as she pushed the bedroom door open. 'Raven!'

Raven, still pressed to the mattress with Wick between her legs, glared at her. 'What the hell could be so important –'

'Bellamy's going to the airport,' Octavia said, looking up at the ceiling as though it was the most interesting thing she'd seen all year. 'I need you to call Clarke and delay her as long as possible. Just make something up.'

Raven pushed Wick off her and he tumbled to the floor. She landed on top of him, mumbling apologies. She kissed him hard on the mouth and rocked forward, just enough to make him grin against her lips. Then, with promises that she'd be back later, she stood up and got dressed in a hurry. God, Clarke had better be grateful for this in the long run.

'She's not answering her phone,' Raven said, descending the steps outside Wick's house. 'Why am I being dragged into this anyway?'

'I don't know. I just feel like we might need to be the back-up squad.'

'Back-up squad for what?'

'I don't know!'

Raven rolled her eyes. They came to the sidewalk and set off in the direction of their apartment.

'Octavia, don't ever barge in on me having sex again.'

Octavia didn't seem able to look at her.

'Won't be a problem.'

* * *

><p><strong>December 31<strong>**st**** (present day)**

Clarke was feeling brave.

It had been a long, long time since she'd stood in an airport, much less held a ticket for a flight in her hands. She had her passport in hand, too, but man she hated the picture. She was the spitting image of her mother in it, and she was still a little angry with her. She knew the anger was misplaced, of course, but anger wasn't exactly the most rational of emotions. She tapped her ticket against her other hand, glancing around. She only had an overnight bag; she wasn't planning on staying more than a few days. Marcus and his wife, Anya, had agreed to let her stay as long as she wanted, but she didn't want to impose.

She was excited, and she tried to make it obvious by plastering a grin on her face. A group of guys walked by her, looking as though they were heading somewhere exotic on vacation; the Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts sort of gave it away. One of them gave her the once over, then whispered to the rest, and suddenly there were five pairs of eyes glinting in her direction and smirking like idiots. Clarke pointedly rolled her eyes at them all and then turned in the direction of some chairs. There were no empty ones, and Clarke wasn't surprised. Why on earth she'd agreed to travel on New Year's Eve, on a plane no less, was beyond her.

She remembered the look on Octavia's face when Bellamy didn't pick up the phone, and the sinking feeling that he just didn't want her any more. She wanted to get far away, and while Boston was still the same country, it was far enough away for now. It's not like she'd run into him while roaming her new campus. She looked around at the people, and was struck with something that she'd always really known, deep down.

Chicago was home, and it always would be.

The acknowledgement left an ache in her stomach.

Clarke turned back to the departure board. She still had half an hour before her flight would probably start boarding. Half an hour. Clarke looked around. If anybody wanted to turn up and make some grand gesture, they had half an hour to do it in…

If only her life were a romantic comedy.

* * *

><p><strong>December 31<strong>**st**** (present day)**

If only his life was one of those goddamn movies that Clarke and Octavia loved so much.

Bellamy was stuck in traffic, only about ten minutes from the airport, and he was starting to get a little antsy. Octavia had texted and said Clarke's flight was due to leave in half an hour, and the longer he looked at the clock, the faster time seemed to tick. He slammed his hands against the steering wheel of Octavia's jeep. Looking around, he spotted a space just off to the side where he could probably leave the car. If he started running right now, he might make it with some time to spare.

If he waited any longer, he might miss her.

Bellamy looked at the clock one more time, then back at the traffic ahead.

'Screw it.'

Bellamy pulled over.

What do you know?

He took off running.

Seems his life was like a movie after all.

* * *

><p>Clarke was watching the clock. She checked it against her watch just to be sure it was right. Maybe it was wrong and maybe it was too fast and maybe she actually had more time than she thought. Maybe there was more time to spare, for someone to come and –<p>

_Flight E190 direct to Boston will begin boarding in ten minutes at gate 5. _

Clarke hesitantly picked up her bag.

* * *

><p>'Whatever ticket is cheapest!' Bellamy yelled at the desk clerk some time later, panting.<p>

* * *

><p>Clarke looked once more back at airport security. Somehow, nothing that had happened mattered anymore. It wasn't as if she was never coming back, but this flight to Boston somehow felt <em>so final<em>, and there was no sign of anyone to make it feel otherwise. No sign of him.

'Well, that's that.'

* * *

><p>Bellamy pushed through the thick fog of bystanders. Airport security was right ahead.<p>

* * *

><p>Clarke hitched her bag on her arm and made sure she had her ticket. Her stomach was bubbling with nerves, but she just had to get over this first hurdle. Once over that, she'd be fine. She could do it.<p>

So what the hell was that nagging in the back of her head and, more importantly, in her heart all about? She felt the need to look back one more time.

She did.

And that's when she saw him.

* * *

><p>'Clarke!'<p>

Bellamy burst through a crowd of onlookers, and when he saw her his heart soared.

* * *

><p><em>Bellamy. <em>

Her legs were moving suddenly and she was running, running right to him and he was running to her. They collided somewhere in the middle, his arms going around her waist and her grabbing hold of the lapels of his jacket.

'What are you doing –' she began.

'Octavia told me you were coming –'

'I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Harvard –'

'I'm sorry I left you –'

'I shouldn't have lied –'

'I never should have left you I just – Clarke, stop,' he said, brushing hair out of her face with one hand. He left his palm on her cheek. She took a deep breath and relaxed under his touch. 'I should have stayed.'

_Flight E190 direct to Boston is now boarding at gate 5. _

They both looked up at the departures board, and Clarke felt his grip on her waist tighten. With his other hand, he gently brought her face back around to his own. He was looking down at her with such vulnerability that Clarke felt she might melt in his embrace.

'Bellamy…' she whispered. He brought his other hand up to her face too, and she took hold of his wrists.

'I didn't want you to leave me,' he said quietly. 'You would have left me, eventually, for Boston and for an amazing future that you deserve, and I would just weigh you down. I didn't want you to leave… so I left you first. But we can figure it out, right? Just please don't lie to me again.'

'Bellamy, stop –'

'Clarke,' he said, and he pressed their foreheads together. He looked her in the eye, and Clarke was suddenly unaware of anyone else around them.

'I love you.'

Clarke breathed out. Time had slowed. She backed away, throwing his arms down and away from her. Bellamy followed as she stepped back, but Clarke held up a hand to stop him. They locked eyes, and hers were wide with apprehension because if he loved her, then he wouldn't have left. But she knew Bellamy, and she knew that's exactly why he slipped away unnoticed. Bellamy, for all his declarations of love and sincerity now, had still been a colossal idiot the week before.

'Clarke –'

'First of all!' She shoved him hard in the chest and he tripped over his own feet. He tumbled to the floor, and Clarke stood over him. Some onlookers around them turned their heads at the commotion.

'How dare you leave me in the middle of the night. Who does that?' She offered him a hand back up, and he took it. 'Second of all, yes, we're going to figure this out.'

She shoved him again, but he managed to stay upright this time. He even smiled a little bit.

'You want to know why?'

'Why?' he challenged, brushing himself off.

'Because I love you too, you dumbass.'

_This is the final call for flight E190 to Boston, boarding at gate 5. Final call._

Bellamy looked at her.

'Moment of truth, Clarke,' he said. 'What's it going to be?'

Clarke didn't hesitate. She grabbed his jacket and he responded in kind, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her like it was the last time. For all he knew, it was.

But Clarke knew differently.

'We can make it work,' he said quietly, in between kisses.

'Thank God,' Clarke said, tugging her lips away from him. 'I really didn't want to get on that plane!'

They laughed, and then Bellamy kissed her again.

Yeah, Chicago was definitely home, but being home in Bellamy's arms just made it so much better.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** And so we're at the end of our tale!

I had thought about doing an epilogue but sort of changed my mind. I like where we're ending things here, and while we don't know what Clarke's plans will be come September, I think we can all agree that they lived happily ever after.

(P.S. I might start writing a zombie apocalypse au so if you're into that stick around.)

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed this story. It means so much!

_Ellie x_


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